


take a step (and watch everything disappear)

by Blepbean



Category: Life Is Strange 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood, Denial of Feelings, Drugs, FINN IS 18 AND I REFUSE TO BELIEVE ANYTHING ELSE, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pinning, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, THERE IS NO SMUT JUST MAKING OUT BORDERLINE OKAY! NO SMUT IN THIS HOUSEHOLD, Trauma?, Violence, be gay do crimes, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 55,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23983732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blepbean/pseuds/Blepbean
Summary: He goes through the plan of leaving Daniel at the Reynolds, leaving in the middle of the night to head South. It's going to be simple. Just head South. Become a decoy. Keep Daniel safe. But something changes when he meets a boy with shitty dreadlocks in a cold night in a cargo train.[Discontinued for the moment, focusing on other projects sorry!]
Relationships: Sean Diaz/Finn
Comments: 31
Kudos: 79





	1. stranger

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! just a heads up that this was before they went to the christmas market so Sean never met cassidy and finn and Daniel never saw Chris. This is just an idea that I've heard Sean say to himself when I was playing in Episode 2 so I decided to go with the idea! The chapters are going to be rather short, about maybe 5k-10k for more faster updates.
> 
> Kudos, comments and feedback is appreciated

**_December 9, 2016, 2:00 AM_ **

He knows he shouldn’t drag this longer. The longer he waits, the longer he’ll have second thoughts that’ll plague him as he walks through the forest. It’s already starting to creep up on him too, making him stay just for another second, making him glance towards his brother, making him pause folding his clothes. He can’t waste time, he also needs to get supplies from the kitchen, not much, just enough. The sooner he leaves, the better it is for everyone. It’ll hurt, he knows this. It’ll leave a deep wound on Daniel, one that he thinks that he can never be repaired, the trust can  _ never  _ be gained back. 

But he’s doing  _ this _ for him. It’ll take  _ years  _ for him to understand this.

He’s almost done packing his bag. He lingers for just a bit, thinking if he should leave a letter, a quick one. It doesn’t have to be that long, keep it short and simple to stop the tears from turning anger from Daniel, he can’t risk him getting angry and accidentally activating his powers. Leaving a note will make Claire and Stephen cry at midnight when they think that Daniel is sleeping. A note will break them too much, it’s better without a goodbye.

He closes the bedroom door behind him. He takes some canned food from the kitchen that should last him a week. Then he takes his toothbrush, toothpaste, a towel and a couple more clothes from the laundry basket and his blanket back from Seattle. He leaves, quickly. Because he”s afraid that if he wrote a letter, he would be there for too long, and he’ll stay. 

And it can’t be good for  _ all  _ of them.

So he opens the door to the backyard. Steps outside. Closes it behind him.

And he’s off.

  
  
  
  


**_December 9, 2016, 2:05 AM_ **

He stops. He stares at the house. Christmas lights. The shed. Warmth. Food. Shelter. Security.  _ Daniel. _ He needs to stop looking back, it took him five minutes to leave. If he keeps doing this. He’ll go back, sneak back through the back door, close it behind him, walk up the stairs and go back to his room with Daniel.

It feels like he’s back again in Seattle. He has Daniel in his hands, taking his bag from the living room, running away from the glaring lights of blue and red. Those colours used to mean safety, but now it just brings paranoia and fear. But it’s different, he’s doing this again. Just as he got used to all of  _ this. _

_ He’s leaving again. _

  
  
  


**_December 9, 2016, 2:35 AM_ **

He’s back to the place where he asked the man for directions. It was just a week ago, he thinks. Or was it ten days, maybe nine? He doesn’t know, but he has to be careful once he leaves beaver creek. He’ll be on his own, no powers from Daniel to help him. It’s just him.

Alone, a wandering sixteen-year-old boy. 

He stops, hiding behind a wall as he hears a car driving past. He watches it zoom past him, hearing the music blasting from it for just a second before beaver creek is silent, still. It’s just him now in the streets of this small town. It’s eerie, empty. He hates it.

He starts to walk again. 

  
  
  
  
  


**_December 9, 2016, 3:00 AM_ **

He never got to tell his grandparents, the Reynolds, that he  _ loved them.  _ There were  _ thank you’s,  _ the manners, the smiles. But he never actually said  _ I love you. _ He doesn’t know how to feel about it. Just as he was starting to reconnect with them after  _ years _ , so close to being able to say  _ I love you, _ like how a grandchild would lovingly say it to his grandparents in the hot afternoon with ice cream. He got that moment once. He wants that moment again.

“I never said  _ I love you  _ to either of them, “ he mumbles, taking out his map that he got from Stephen’s desk, walking close to a street lamp for the light but not enough to be easily seen. It’s dark, cold, he _ shouldn’t  _ be out here in the dark all alone near the gift shops which sells shitty woodcrafts.

“I never said it,” he says, louder, echoing in the dark. 

_ He never noticed how loud his voice is _

  
  
  
  
  


**_December 9, 2016, 3:23 AM_ **

He takes out his map again, turning on his flashlight as he puts it between his teeth. It’s hard to see but he can see how long he’s gone, he’s in Washington, he’s still a long way from the border, he might  _ die  _ before he reaches it. It’s  _ so  _ far away. Reynold's house isn’t that far. He can still turn back, he can still go back to his bed and pretend that he never did anything of this.

He can go back.

“Fuck it,” he mumbles with the flashlight, just like he would speak with his mouth full while he watches Top Gear with Daniel and his Dad on the couch, stuffing his mouth with pizza while they complain about how the celebrity is driving on the track, “fuck it, fuck it, fuck it.”

He goes off the road and into the forest, he hears the snow crunch beneath his feet. 

  
  
  
  


**_December 9, 2016, 6:00 AM_ **

He can see the sun rising over the horizon.

He wonders if they’ve noticed that he’s gone.

  
  
  
  


**_December 9, 2016, 6:12 AM_ **

Daniel must’ve woken up to pee, he must’ve noticed that he’s gone. 

He hopes.

  
  
  


**_December 9, 2016, 6:25 AM_ **

He’s sobbing uncontrollably now. Tears down his face, his throat is dry and he’s  _ tired  _ of crying and sobbing. He has to keep walking, make ground, it’s harder in the forest than in the road, more terrain and rocks. 

  
  
  
  
  


**_December 9, 2016, 7:00 AM_ **

It’s fully day now. The sun is fully out 

Yet…

Something feels off,  _ strange _ . It doesn’t feel like any other  _ day _ , but he can’t put his finger on it. He stops walking for a minute, leaning against the tree, slowly sitting down while he stares at the stream of water just a few steps in front of him. Why is this day different? Maybe it’s the way he put on his hoodie, or his orange beanie that Claire gave isn’t itching like it used to? Maybe it’s the--

“Stop thinking,” he says, “stop it, stop it, dude, you’re going to make yourself insane.”

He sighs, looking up into the sky. There are clouds slowly rolling by. There’s a 30% chance of rain, it said on the news. He doesn’t have a raincoat on him, he’ll be screwed if he gets caught out in the rain. He’ll have to find somewhere to hide if it rains. It’s quiet in the forest, peaceful. 

He sees a deer come out from one of the trees. 

It stares at him, completely still. He moves his hand, it suddenly runs off. Through the woods, through the bushes, back to where it came from. The way the deer from North, somewhere far  _ North  _ he thinks. 

_ Maybe… maybe if he could go North… maybe… maybe if he could reach the Canadian border.  _

_ He could reach it. _

_ There are no borders there, none, no walls to split two countries apart because someone thought it would be a good idea.  _

“But they expect me to go South if I go North…”

_ Then he wouldn’t be diverting them from Daniel _

  
  
  
  
  


**_December 9, 2016, 7:18 AM_ **

He’s close to the road, he can see it through the trees, he’s making sure to keep close in case anything happens and he can run to the roads to run better. It'll be worse if he hides in the forest to wait out for someone that finds him, he might get lost. He’s making good ground, he has to keep going. He’s done this before. This isn’t anything new for him. Walking, just without Daniel, he’s on his own this time.

It’s nothing different. Just the same.

  
  
  
  


**_December 9, 2016, 7:48 AM_ **

He sees someone with a beard on the side of the road, with a red jacket and jeans that don’t quite fit him properly He careful not to get close, but he’s peering out of his tree, careful, hoping that it’s Brody, that it’s  _ him  _ and this is all a surprise and he isn’t going to Utah to see his Mum and--

It isn’t Brody.

It’s just some random dude who’s sitting on a rock on his phone with the back of his car open. It’s not Brody with his laptop typing away at some article about naked people and how they want to live their lives, it’s not even Brody’s car. It’s some shitty car with stickers on the back that says  _ ‘Build the wall!’  _ and  _ ‘Kick them out!’ _

He feels sick in his stomach, he feels like crying. He wants to go back home. Rewind just a year ago with Lyla and the gang in the skate park. He wishes he could rewind everything, change it all, save his dad and stop from all this bullshit from happening.

But the universe is shitty, and whatever God is out there is punishing him and dragging him through the absolute  _ shit _ . He hates it. He wants to scream, he wants to shout. He wants to burst into flames, but he knows that after all of it all it’ll come right back at him when he’s behind bars.

He starts to walk again.

  
  
  
  
  


**_December 9, 2016, 2:02 PM_ **

He sees a gas station. It looks shoddy, horrible paint job with the red and white, the sign looks rusty and it looks like it’s an off-brand version of  _ 7/11 _ . There’s a bathroom just to the side, but there’s no picnic table near it and there’s no parking lot and there’s no creepy wooden bear. It’s not the same gas station that he and Daniel went to last time.

_ There’s no racist asshole in the shop, it’s not the same one, it isn’t _ .

He slowly walks closer to the road, looking left to the light to see if anyone is nearby. There’s no one here, except the teenager who’s forced to take a shift in the middle of nowhere, Sean can see them through the window, typing away at their phone. No one would see him, he’ll be fine.

He walks across the road, staring at his left to right, paranoid that  _ someone  _ would be staring him through the trees, it’ll all end with just a single stare and a single photo and a single phone call. It’s terrifying. Sean makes it across, sighing with relief. Each move, each step is getting more dangerous than the last. He quickly goes into the bathroom, ignoring the literal shit that’s floating on the toilet or the graffiti on the wall as he opens the tap. It looks clear enough, he cups it into his hand, bringing it up to his mouth as he tastes the water.

_ It’s not that bad, he’ll just have to ignore the nasty toilet, typical gas station toilets. _

He refills his canteen. He quickly leaves the bathroom, looking around. Then he goes back into the woods, back to where he’s slowly getting used to.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 9, 2016, 7:09 PM_ **

It’s raining hard.

He shouldn’t have kept walking, he should’ve been finding shelter to wait out the rain and rest. But Sean  _ fucking  _ Diaz is an absolute idiot when he comes to this. He grits his teeth, shivering as the rain feels like bulleting pelting him. It’s cold, so  _ cold _ . It’s not good for him to be out here, he needs somewhere to wait for this rain out.

_ He wants to go back to Seattle _

“Fuck, fuck fuck. FUCK!” He yells, he wants to yell louder, screams more into the forest because it feels like he’s the only on here. He’s an idiot. Why didn’t he think of the rain? He did in the early morning, but he somehow forgot for some reason and now he’s shivering in the rain. Maybe, if he could mutter it beneath his breath every second, think about it every second, then  _ maybe  _ he would never forget about it.

Just like he would never forget about Daniel, Dad, Lyla--

He sees a cargo train through the trees.

He looks up to the sky, it’s getting dark soon. The train would have to do. He gets close to the train, seeing it sprawl so long from one end to another, the train tracks cutting a line straight through the forest. He climbs on to the train, groaning as he gets inside into one of the open cargos.

He sighs, leaning against one of the crates as he takes out his blanket from Seattle, it’s a miracle how it’s survived for this long. Sean wraps it around himself, staring out to the trees that sprawl for miles and miles. The more he goes South, the more he’ll see less of this, sand will slowly overtake everything and the gentle breezes will slowly start to feel like a gift from god.

But for now, he can hate the rain, the cold weather, the snow, the way that cold water seeps through his shoes and into his socks. He sits to the corner furthest away from the doors, he leans against one of the crates, taking out his blanket as he wraps it around himself while he stares outside. Sean traces the lines of his palm, something he told Daniel to do when he’s stressed or anxious.

_ “Just follow the lines like this.” _

_ “Like… that?” _

_ “Yeah Daniel, just like that. Go at your own pace, slow and steady.” _

He tucks his knees in, he wishes he can curl further into a ball, fold into himself and make himself so tiny that no one else can see him. That’s what he wants to be, small, quiet, tucked away in corners of the closet where he’ll be safe and no one will bother him. No racist asshole. No wolves or dogs. No police. No onlookers. No one, it’ll just be him. Alone.

“Goodbye, my Santa Monica dream…”

  
  
  
  
  


**_December 9, 2016, 7:12 PM_ **

That song is Lyla’s favourite,  _ Santa Monica Dream _ . Just a soft and gentle song while they look up at the sky and watch it all go by, having it on blast with a Bluetooth speaker that Sean won in a claw machine during his 14th Birthday. He wonders if it still works, probably collecting cobwebs in Sean’s room.

He misses his room, he misses basic things that he had inside his house. A warm shower. A soft bed. A laptop. A pillow.  _ Walls. Warmth. Shelter. A home _ . He’s tired and exhausted, the blanket isn’t doing much.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 9, 2016, 8:23 PM_ **

He can’t sleep. He’s restless. 

  
  
  
  


**_December 9, 2016, 9:09 PM_ **

He’s crying, not fully  _ sobbing _ , fewer tears this time. It’s fine, it’s better this way as he wipes away his tears with his cold fingers. If he keeps crying, he’ll grow tired, even more, exhausted from letting the tears fall. He’ll fall asleep from crying, he’ll get the rest he needs, it’s better for him.

  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 1:09 AM_ **

He hears voices, it’s quiet, soft, is someone talking to themselves. He slowly opens his eyes, groaning as his eyes begin to get used to the darkness, the bitter cold abyss in the middle of the forest. It’s still raining, it’s dwindling but who is it that’s talking? Will he find them? Maybe they’re looking for him, maybe--

He hears shouting, loud, screaming. Not from the quiet voice, it’s  _ different _ , he can hear multiple. Sean quickly puts his blanket into his bag, crouching, looking out of the open door of the cargo, terrified that this is it, this is the end of Sean Diaz, the end of the road. He can already envision it, as the shouting grows closer he’ll be stuck here, not knowing where to go, then, they’ll surround this open cargo and check inside and--

He feels the train  _ shift _ , it’s starting to move. The shouting begins louder, he can hear someone running, but he stays in his little corner, hidden away from the entire world as his heart echoes inside his ears, loud, deafening,  _ screaming _ . Are they gonna find him? What will they do? Will they let him sit here, take out a knife and slice him open and it’ll reveal the ugly pool of his secrets and tears? Or will they report him, let time slowly dwindle him down as he grows old and goes numb.

_ It’s a terrifying thought _

The train quickens. The voices stop and so do the footsteps. Everything stops, it’s still, quiet except for the rain and the train. It’s quiet.

He can breathe.

He hears a footstep,  _ someone  _ is inside, near the door, to his right. He holds his breath, terrified, already thinking about how he’s going to die. It’s only one, he’s sure they’ll make it quick, a quick and painless death by a gun by his death or a knife slitting his throat. He covers his mouth with his cold hands. They’re getting close. Another footstep. And another. And another.

Then another. 

Sean can see the shadow looming over him.

“Please…” he sobs out, afraid to even look up, “please don’t hurt me, I’ll do whatever you want, j-just leave me alone I--”

“Woah slow down there,” they say, their  _ voice  _ sounds so chill and calm and relaxed, reminding him of the many boys that he’s seen out in the soccer team in his school, so  _ careless  _ and free and maybe that’s why he often likes to-- 

“I’m not… I’m not going to hurt you,” they say.

Sean slowly looks up, he hates this split of a second, the tension, the reveal of who’s standing in front of him.

“Jesus Christ you look like you saw a ghost, “ the boy says, looks like the same age as Sean or older, probably 18 who’s standing right in front of him with those shitty deadlocks that look it hasn’t been washed in  _ years _ , “I thought I was done there, they were chasing me.”   
  


Sean watches him at the opposite wall of him, sighing as he puts his hood up, putting his bag beside him as he takes a cigarette and a lighter from his pocket. He puts the cigarette into his mouth, the roll looks handmade, done quickly as he does with Lyla, roll a quick one behind the school and smokes for the rest of lunch (no way he and Lyla would roll a blunt in school).

He lights it with his lighter, Sean can see the tattoos and nose ring on his face for a split second, the three triangles under his right eye, a line that goes from the bottom of his lip to his chin and his stupid nose ring that looks like it belongs to a drummer in a punk rock band. The cigarette gets lit, glowing in the dark while the flame of the light goes away. Everything it plunged into this awkward abyss.

“Want some? You look like you’ve been through hell.”

Sean shakes his head even though he _desperately_ needs a smoke to calm his nerves, to soothe himself and feel the warmth going all over his body. But this is a _stranger,_ just a _stranger,_ a _nobody_ , someone who’s just passing by. He’ll never be someone in his life, not a _friend_ or something _more_.

This stranger sitting opposite him is nothing more than just a  _ stranger,  _ he shouldn’t trust him.

  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 1:34 AM_ **

  
  
  
  


“They were chasing me,” he says, those four words break the silence that Sean doesn’t know if it was peaceful or awkward, he thinks he prefers it if it would’ve been quiet, “stupid fucking pieces of shit, thought they could catch me,” he chuckles dryly.

Sean decides to bite the bullet, “why are they chasing you?”

“Because I killed someone,” he says plainly.

“What?”

He laughs so loudly that Sean is sure that everyone can hear him from a mile away, “ _ Jesus _ I was kidding! I don’t think I have the guts to kill someone anyway,” he sighs, shaking his head as he takes out a knife from his bag, Sean can see it glint in the now clear sky from the moonlight. Sean watches him scratch the floor with his knife, he notices Sean staring, he quickly looks away.

  
  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 2:34 AM_ **

“Do you know where this train is heading?”   
  


“Goes to North then goes West at the end of Oregon.”

“Thank you.”

“What do I get in return?”   
  
“I-I don’t have anything to give you.”

“I’m messing with you,” he says, he looks at Sean’s face for a moment, eyes lingering on his skin, on his eyes and to the hoodie he’s wearing before he goes back to staring out into the forest, “you’re fun to mess with.”   
  


“What’s your name?” Sean asks.

Silence, it’s deafening, ringing inside his ears. 

“You don’t have to answer that--

“Name’s Finn,” he mumbles, there’s a shift of his tone in his voice, more serious, fewer jokes and sarcasm and humour, this is the  _ real him  _ and it’s weird to see it in a stranger. He doesn’t come back with something witty or funny or something stupid that’ll lighten up the mood it’s just a simple answer.

_ Just Finn _

  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 2:42 AM_ **

“My name is… Max.”   
  


“Nice to meet you, Max.”

  
  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 2:43 AM_ **

He needs to be careful around him, he’s just a stranger and could give him away to the police. His fake name isn’t enough, only there to trick him for a few seconds. But Sean doesn’t trust him, he can’t go to sleep with this stranger that could kill him within a single second, Finn can stab him in his sleep, strangle him, push him off the train.

He could do  _ anything _ .

So Sean watches him, his eyelids growing heavy with every second that he could accidentally fall asleep and that’ll be the end of him, just pure abyss while Finn would use his knife, plunge it deep into his stomach as he’ll cry and reach out for help while he bleeds out. But he looks like he would do  _ nothing  _ like that, he looks so peaceful and innocent with his lips into a thin line that looks like he’s thinking about something else, eyes wandering the vast forest that they’re passing through.

Finn almost looks like someone who’d get along with, someone who he’ll smoke a blunt with while watching the sunrise over the horizon. But Sean  _ knows  _ it won’t  _ ever  _ happen. He’s a stranger. He’s on a run. He’ll get off this train when it hits dawn or when it stops. He’ll never see Finn again.

And that’ll be it.

  
  
  
  
  



	2. fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg soz for the late update! hope yall are doing well!!! the fic will slowly start to pick up from here, introducing new original characters and some backstory (why is FInn all alone? WHERES THE LICE GANG???) also please tell me if I'm missing any tags or feel like i should add a tag!! thanks 
> 
> kudos, commments and feedback is apprecaited

_ The sweat sticks to him, the air is completely still and he feels like he’s in an oven actually dying. But it’s fine, he can keep this up for just a couple more minutes as he shields his eyes from the scorching sun, putting one foot on his skateboard while he looks at the gang. They’re all here, it’s been a while since they were together at the skatepark. _

_ He smiles, stretching his arm, “hello? Is no one going to skate with me?” _

_ And just like that  _

**_Everything is ripped from him_ **

  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 8:09 AM_ **

He woke up a few minutes ago, the train stopped.

And he’s all alone on the train, Finn isn’t here, he left, he’s gone. He should be feeling relief or somewhat happy, he’s gone, another reliability gone. Yet… he feels this  _ strange  _ feeling inside of him, pulling at his chest and the pain is sharp as he remembers those  _ stupid  _ dreadlocks and the tatoos on his face.

He shakes his head, no time to think about this, he has to gain ground,  _ get out of here, head south, cross the border. _

Sean steps out of the cargo, shielding his eyes from the sun. He’s somewhere completely new, less snow, more taller trees. It’s nothing but the dense forest and sprawling trees that seems to reach up into thes sky, he walks away from the train tracks, going to his left as he pulls out his map from his bag. 

He’s lost.

A piercing honk echoes throughout the air as the train slowly starts up again, watching the smoke twist and twirl up into the air while the train slowly starts to move. Sean sighs, scratching his neck while he palms his pocket, making sure his lighter is still there along with his wallet. The lighter from his Dad. The photo of him in his wallet. Only the two things he has left of his dad, the rest is soaked in blood.

  
  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 8:54 AM_ **

He wishes he has his phone right now. How easy it would be to find where he is right now, where he is on the map and how to get out of the forest. Just a simple few buttons that he has to push in order to find where he is, somewhere in the west of Oregon. It could be anywhere, as he stares at the map a couple of times while he shifts his sitting position on the rock. It’s confusing how to read the map. He turns the map again, sighing as he scratches the back of his neck.

It’s confusing, it feels like he’s going around in circles.

  
  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 11:32 AM_ **

His feet hurt from walking too much, he can already imagine the bruises and the calluses on his feet when he finally sits down and relaxes for just a minute. Sean wipes the sweat of his forehead, taking his hood off, stretching his arms up into the air. The snow is slowly dwindling, only appearing smaller and smaller with each kilometre he passes as he traverses through the forest.

And the forest also grows thicker, much heavier with higher trees and thicker bushes and more confusing paths. He stares at the map in his hands. The more he traverses on foot in the forest, the harder it’ll be. He could get lost in these woods, it’ll be harder to find his war around the thick forest. 

Sean sighs, he doesn’t want to leave the forest, it’s safe and better in the cover. He’ll have to go left from now on, go on the streets and the roads and watch the forest disappear behind him. There’ll be no cover in the open road, all open and more eyes and more strangers. All it’ll take is one phone call.

_ Just one _

He feels his stomach churn, he feels uneasy. It’ll be harder from here on out.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 12:39 AM_ **

The forest is slowly dwindling behind him, less trees and shrubbery and branches that cut him. But he can’t help but think of that boy he saw in the train,  _ Finn _ . It was obvious. He was _ Sean _ , not  _ Max _ . His photo is all over the world and yet he didn’t  _ call _ enough. He could’ve, it would've been over for him.

But yet… he didn’t. It’s strange.  _ He’s  _ strange. Was it just out of kindness? He doesn’t look like the type that would be nice, someone who looks dodgy in the alley ways smoking blunts in between classes. 

  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 3:09 PM_ **

There it is, he can see a road in the distance. It’s a street. There’s buildings. There’s cars. It’s not the suburbs or the crowded cities with the constant ear splitting honking that goes on. It’s the quiet sort of streets with fewer people, less people. That’s good. That’s great. He can pass through this area, hide and rest for just a few minutes in the alleyways. 

He starts walking, putting his map into his bag. He palms his pocket in search for his phone…

He doesn’t have one, the realisation sets in and he feels so stupid that he laughs at himself. It feels like a break, a tiny bit of air exhaling out of his lungs. The laugh, the stupid realisation that he  _ threw  _ away his phone when he was calling Lyla and that he depends on technology too much, it’s a breather, a relaxer from all his  _ terrifying  _ thoughts that seem to just plague his mind freely.

And it scares him every time he thinks that it could wander where it wants to and spiral to places where he doesn’t want it to go, into the darkest abyss of his mind to the stupidest secrets that he holds. Sean doesn’t want to slow down walking, he speeds up, almost as if he’s being chased by  _ something _ . 

A ghost from the past.

A secret.

A  _ feeling  _ that he keeps dismissing.

  
  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 3:23 PM_ **

His legs hurt from walking, it feels numb as he sets it up onto a box that he found behind a shitty knock-off walmart. No one can find him here in this small town, it’s a bit bigger than Beaver Creek, everyone keeps to themselves, it’s a town full of looming ghosts and secrets and people pretend that they don’t exist. He could stay for half an hour here, maybe get some supplies from the store.

He mindlessly stares at the dodgy graffiti on the wall beside him, his hand reaching for something to eat inside his bag, he shoved a candy bar in there before leaving Beaver Creek. It’s quiet, the town sort of quiet with the birds chirping and the occasional car driving past. He feels at peace, for just this moment. It’s enough for him, these precious few seconds and how it feels like it’s all slipping away.

  
  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 3:27 PM_ **

“Excuse me?”

He doesn’t turn around. He keeps walking, putting his hood up. He just has to pretend that they’re not there, keep looking straight ahead and don’t look back. Sean’s heart is beating against his chest and there’s this  _ twisting  _ feeling inside him, this anxiety, this _ fear  _ that this is it.

This is over for him.

“You there? Excuse me?”

He keeps walking faster. He can lose them if he turns the next block and wait it out for a few hours.

“Excuse me?”

He’s tempting fate.

“Who are you?”

He feels a hand on his shoulder. He freezes, letting time stretch for as much as possible. Fear coils around him. It’s getting harder to breathe. He feels like he’s suffocating, lungs turning into cold steel inside his body. 

He turns around.

Grey white long hair. A cane. Wrinkled face and a flower pattern dress. An old woman in her late 60’s is right in front of him, he musters up a smile as he looks around the small town. He bites down on his tongue.

“I’m sorry I just…” she pauses for a few moments, shaking her head before she continues, “I just thought I  _ saw  _ you from somewhere before.”   
  
His heart sinks. Everything in him dies.

He can tell himself that she’s old. That she might be mistaking him for someone else, a grandkid in her mum’s side or a high school kid who appeared in the local news for raising money, That she’s confused, she’s old, she forgets. Think of  _ everything  _ that might go against what he desperately doesn’t want to come true because he’s  _ scared _ .

Fear binds him. He can’t speak. 

“I--”

“I just… never mind. I’m sorry for wasting your time, I just thought you were someone else for a minute.”

He feels the shackles falling off, he forces a chuckle, “oh, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologise! I just thought you were someone else, my bad. I guess my eyes are deceiving him, old age does things to you,” she sighs, “I better get going, I am so  _ sorry _ .”

She hesitates turning around, looking at him for a few more seconds before walking back. He has time, but not long. He has to get out of this town, it’s no longer safe. It’s just like the places he’s gone through. Always leaving when he  _ just  _ got settled and got comfortable. He can’t grow comfortable.

No more attaching memories to places.

No more friendships.

No more staying behind.

Because it’ll hurt if he stays a bit too long, he already knows it. Just like with Lyla. Just like with the Reynolds. Just like with Daniel. Just like with Finn.

Who he barely knows, a mere strange that he feels this  _ attachment  _ to. He needs to cut it off, snap the rope in half and forget that it existed.

He starts to move quickly, turning a left while he looks at his map. Just a few hundred metres and he’ll be out. He starts to walk faster. More people walk past him, the traffic lights turn green and red, more cars speed past him. He needs to leave. He needs to get out. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 3:48 PM_ **

There’s more people here, the small cute houses slowly turning into shops into the streets that sell shitty furniture and overpriced vases. The small town is gone now, the softness and the comfort of being in the small corner of the world is exploding as his heart beats against his chest. He fucked up.

He didn’t look at the map.

More people. More cars. More cameras. He keeps his head down, his breathing shaky as he feels the people stare at him as they walk past. What are they thinking? Why he’s being so  _ paranoid _ , fear controlling his breathing or do they already know that it’s  _ him _ and yet they’re lettinging him go. He wants to look up, to show his face and feel  _ safe. _

But he can’t.

He turns to his left, watching the stone sidewalk slowly turn more janky, weeds sprouting through the tiny gaps. He sees the feet of the people moving away from him, avoiding him, making sure they’re at least a few steps away from Sean. It’s slowly growing louder and louder, overwhelming Sean’s senses as it all slowly slushes together.

But something stands out.

He hears voices. A siren. A  _ cop _ .

It’s loud, ringing inside his ears. He looks up, bearing the sudden catastrophe that he  _ thinks  _ will unfold in front of him. The police car is stuck in traffic, the red and blue sirens going off. He goes to his left, looking to his left to hide more of his face. It feels like he’s holding his breath in, suffocating. If he breathes. If he stops.

They’re going to catch him.

He feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Act natural, hold my hand.”

The voice sounds so  _ familiar _ . He grabs their hand, so calloused and rough. He grabs it tight, not daring to look at who it is.

“Don’t do well with cops  _ Max?” _

It’s  _ him _ . That boy that he met in the train in the middle of the night. Running away from a bunch of people. Those face tattoos. His shitty dreadlocks. His  _ face _ . He looks straight ahead, trying not to act suspicious. He’s fine. He holds his hand just a bit tighter, hanging on like it’s the only thing anchoring him.

“I just have a bad history with him.”

_ Such a stupid lie _ .

Yet… it might buy him sometime.

  
They go left, “I just… my parents they did--”

“Jesus, you don’t need to tell a life story. Saw you freaking out and wanted to help, obvious you’re not used to his.”

The town, the outskirts out the town they’re passing through is slowly turning more and more alive. The colours are slowly turning more calm and cool, the soft whites blending well with the walls. The little tiny boutique feels warm and soft, with the cute antiques being shown out of the windows and the people, how they smile and talk and move. He’s not panicking more. It feels like he’s walking with someone who--

“Just keep walking, pretend that you love me.”   
  


Sean chuckles, “oh shut up, I’m not fucking doing that for you.”

“You sure? You  _ obviously  _ love me too much that--”

“Shut up.”

  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 4:23 PM_ **

They’re out. He hasn’t let go of his hand in five minutes. He likes warmth, it gives him the false sense of comfort. No one hasn’t said anything in ten minutes. They haven’t moved in fifteen minutes, sitting in the back of a shitty burger place where no one can see them. Sean isn’t touching the burger that Finn bought him, he feels like it’s not worth for him.

“Are you going to eat? At least put it in your bag Max.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know… I just, your first time running away from home?”

_ He thinks he’s running away from home. Thinking that his parents have contacted the cops, having a whole country search for a little boy who ran away from home because they’re fed up _ .

He goes with it.

“Yeah.”

“You can still go back, you know.”   
  


“I wish I could.”

_ He can’t go back, everything that he has back home is gone. It hurts _ .  _ All he has is a photo, a lighter and a blanket, _

He feels this twisting feeling inside his chest. 

Finn doesn’t press further. He stops, letting the silence work it’s way into the moment. He’s smart, he knows when to stop and when to keep going. They sit in the stillness, Sean likes the silence, the quiet while he mindlessly stares at the graffiti on the walls. Lazily drawns dicks. Stupid gang signs. Cliche heart with an arrow struck through, with initials drawn on them. 

_ 2009 _

_ J.C + J. D _

He wonders if they’re still together after all this time. Or are they already split? Just a stupid high school romance that lasted nine months before breaking apart on prom, forgetting each other in their minds and going their seperate ways.They stay as distant memories on their minds. Is this what Finn would be to Sean? He would just be a hazy memory, with those shitty dreadlocks and face tattoos…

It’s all that he’ll remember.

“What are you doing out here?” Sean asks, all he gets is the silence that stretches out for miles and miles. It’s like the sea is diving the two of them, growing more and more as it feels like the silence suffocates him.

“I just wanted to leave,” Finn replies, he takes a bite of his greasy burger, double burger, double cheese, no pickles. His is different, Sean has more lettuce and tomatoes and toppings, “I guess. How about you? What happened? Y-you don’t have to answer that I--”

“I just got tired, tired of my Dad.”

_ He’s dead _ .

“I don’t know, something along the lines I guess.”

_ He’s underground. _

Finn clears his throat, “I can relate to that, in some sort of way,” he says. No more, just a single sentence that doesn’t lead much on but leaves a bit of  _ something _ . It reveals just a bit of himself, but not so much that he’s exposed out in the open. Sean gets it. He’s a stranger.

They’re both strangers.

Sharing cargo in a train doesn’t count as being acquaintances or being friends. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just complete strangers that somehow crossed paths. They sit in utter silence, it’s no longer suffocating anymore. It feels… natural, like they’re clicking together like two puzzle pieces in a sea of a thousand, recreating a picture of a shitty stock image photo of Paris.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 4:49 PM_ **

They’re stretching out the time, neither of them wanting to leave. 

“Where are you going exactly?” Finn asks.

“South.”

“But all there is sand and rednecks.”

“I know, I just… it’s a start. Where are you going?”

“I don’t have a plan, Max.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 4:50 PM_ **

“You should come with me, Finn.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 4:51 PM_ **

Sean ruined it. He broke the  _ only  _ sort of good thing that’s happening to him. Talking to a complete stranger that saved him once. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 4:52 PM_ **

If they go together, it’ll hurt the both of them. It’ll sting, feel like a stab in the heart and it’ll settle like poison when Sean leaves him behind. He knows it’ll hurt.  _ They both  _ know it’ll hurt the both of them if they go together, when they leave it’s going to turn ugly. Maybe it’s best if they don’t travel together.

He knows how it’ll end.

The both of them know how it’ll end. How the two of them dance around a fake name, a pillar that’s already shaking beneath the weight. The distance between them is already breaking apart, the two inches growing into a whole meter with Finn slowly moving and shifting. 

“You shouldn’t, it was a dumb question--”

“I’ll go.”

“Finn you don’t know me. We’re complete strangers.”

“And that’s what it makes it fun brother!” He smiles cheekily, full of sun as he punches him in the arm playfully, “why not?”

“You’re insane.”

“Thank you, I would like to thank my wee old grandpa and Father for it.”

They laugh, it awkwardly wittles away. The sudden breeze carries the silence away, it’s getting dark, the sun is sinking into the horizon. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 5:00 PM_ **

He follows Finn closely, making sure to keep his head low as they creep through the streets and the alleyways. They don’t say anything, communicating in silence. Sean blindly following Finn wherever he’s going, trusting a mere stranger. Sean brings his bag closer to him, making sure not to look at anyone else as they turn a corner without a word.

It’s strange how they fall into a pattern.

He sees his own reflection in the mirror as they pass a shop, he watches the streetlights turn on in the reflection in the window. The streets grow dark, the sky is filling up with stars that come from light years away. There’s no one here except them. It feels like they’re the only ones here, with the distant dog barking. 

It feels like they’re just the only ones in the world, it’s strange. It’s a weird hour. Not day, not entirely dark enough that it’s night. Sean feels like he can run out in the streets like he did back then, then jump on his skateboard and ride around the neighbourhood while listening to a shitty pop song. It would feel so  _ casual  _ back then, such a normal thing he would do. 

Now it feels like something that  _ stretches  _ a long time ago. It was months ago. He’s not like that anymore. He wants to do it, to run out in the streets and feel like a normal teenager again. He shakes his head, crossing the road without looking left to right because they simply don’t care anymore.

It’s weird.

“Where are we going?” Sean asks.

“Out from this county to the west there’s a train line, we can hope on if we get there in a week.”

“So we’re walking all the way to a--”   
  
“Train, yeah, we are.”

Silence.

“I mean unless if you have a better idea then feel free to throw it out in the open i mean--”

“No it’s okay I was just--”   
  
“Just what? Max just what?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

They stop talking for a few seconds. Did he say anything wrong. Did he mess up? He bites his tongue, scratching the back of his neck. The silence is interrupted by Finn’s  _ stupid _ chuckle, so childish and light, filling up the air around them. Sean slowly smiles, he didn’t  _ mean  _ to smile. Why did he smile? It’s the type of smiles that he couldn’t help, the ones that stay there for a few seconds.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 5:47 PM_ **

They’re out of the town, he looks at it from a distance. The buildings look so  _ small _ , so tiny compared to the clouds. It’s weird how distance can skew things up, how miles and miles can change how things can look. He looks over to Finn who’s ahead of him, slowing down with his hands in his pocket, staring out in the trees in the forest.

The distance between him and Finn is growing, a few steps every ten minutes. They’re still mere strangers. He has to keep telling that to himself every now and then. He’s only using him to get to Mexico faster. That's it. 

Nothing else.

Because Daniel is all that matters.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 6:07 PM_ **

They’ve grown quiet. Finn would stop every now and then, reading off a list of the small books on him. Then, he would look at the trees for a moment like he’s looking for  _ something _ . Maybe it’s a trail mark that Dad taught him. Maybe Finn knows them. Knows the lines on the trees that tells him where to go.

  
  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 6:08 PM_ **

Gravel crunches beneath his feet.

Trees sway in the gentle breeze that sometimes passes by. 

Owls fill the night.

There’s the occasional cough from Sean or the twig snapping from Finn.

It’s quiet, it feels like they’re on a camping trip. Walking through the empty road with the trees that drape over them so menacingly, it’s already night, it’s going to get darker soon. It feels like his eyes are playing tricks on him, shadows turning to ghouls and looming ghosts. Sean has to remind himself that they aren’t real.

He hasn’t been through this part of the forest, but the trees are still towering over the sky and there’s this eerie feeling throughout. It reminds him of his camping trip a while ago with his friends, walking through the forest in the dark with Lyla and the rest of the gang, terrified of a twig snapping or the sounds of animals scurrying away.

His lips turn into a smile, he didn’t realise that it was even forming. He turns on his flashlight.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 7:09 PM_ **

It’s silent. The eeriness is replaced with the awkward stillness of the forest. He feels like speaking, saying something. But it feels like he should stay quiet, to let this silence between them stretch until Finn breaks it. He bites his lip, putting his hands into his pockets as he steps down to the dip of the forest. 

“You right back there?” Finn asks, turning off his flashlight. The moonlight streams through the canopy, lighting up the forest just a little bit. 

“Y-yeah I’m fine,” he stutters, almost tripping on a root.

“You sure?”   
  


“Yeah, just haven’t gone camping in a while,” he says awkwardly, it comes out stiffly, unnatural, a forced joke. But Finn, he chuckles loudly like he would to a friend. It’s strange how calm he is, how he acts around Sean. It’s like they’re in another world, just the two of them together in a forest.

“When’s the last time you’ve gone camping then?”

“Uhhh I don’t know a month of two ago?”

Sean thinks back to him and Daniel all alone in the forest, hunkering down beneath a rock while the fire blazes away. He remembers Sean quivering beneath him, the many stories that he shared with Daniel. It all comes back to him, the forest, the newspaper that he found in the firepit, the little games they played.

It all comes back.

And it  _ breaks him _ .

“That’s not that long ago!”

He bites his lip, “it feels like it,” he mumbles.

It does. It feels like a whole world away. It feels like thirty miles away, perhaps more, perhaps it’s a hundred miles away, a  _ thousand  _ miles away. It’s like a red sea between them, a few red seas between them. He can’t cross it to go back. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 7:34 PM_ **

He sits on the rocks, placing the flashlight at the ground, the full moon is waning away. He sighs, staring at the lines on his palm. Lyla said something about destiny and some bullshit about lines on his palm, something about soulmates or something cheesy like that. Lyla is always like that,  _ Lyla the Love witch _ , always making something about romance. Cheesy romance movies, dreaming about the  _ perfect  _ partner, drawing love hearts.

Sean looks to his left, seeing if Finn is finished going to toilet. But he isn’t, and he’s left alone with all his thoughts.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 8:09 PM_ **

“Wanna settle down for the night Max?”

“I’m fine, we can keep going.”

  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 8:11 PM_ **

“You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

  
  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 8:12 PM_ **

“Watch where you’re going! You almost fell!”

“Sorry I’m just--”

“We’re settling down for the night.”

“I’m fine, just a bit tired. We need to keep making tracks otherwise it’ll take a million years--”

“The train can wait. You almost falling off can’t.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 8:23 PM_ **

“I think this, this is it.”

It’s an open area with a boulder near a bush, they can set up camp here. He sighs, sitting down as he leans against the boulder. It feels good to finally sit, he feels like he could fall asleep right here. He puts his bags to his side as he takes out his blanket and the sleeping bag that he stole from the gas station, he still has memories from that  _ man _ .

“I’m going to go get some firewood, you can stay here.”

Sean stands up, “I can help you--”

Finn shakes his head, putting his bag down on the grass, “No  _ sweetie,”  _ he says, “stay there and be a good boy, and don’t go and fall off any edges when I’m gone,” he rummages through his bag, taking out his flashlight, “and I mean it!”

He walks into the forest, into the trees. Sean follows his light. It’s strange how  _ casual _ and carefree he acts around Sean, even leaving his bag with him. Does Finn trust him that much? It’s strange, it’s also weird how he just called him  _ sweetie,  _ something so gentle and so  _ sweet _ .

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 9:09 PM_ **

The fire took a while to get started, having to sit through the many grumblings of Finn and the burnt sticks of wood on the floor. They got it running after a few minutes, the kettle whistled loudly while the fire crackled in the night. Sean watches the fire sparks fly, it looks like fireflies floating up into the air before they dissipate. 

Sean pulls his knees in. Finn takes out an instant ramen noodle cup.

Sean feels hungry, feeling his stomach grumble. He rummages through his bag, finding an apple and a ham sandwich that somehow still hasn’t gone bad, it’s the sandwich that he took from the fridge back at the Reynolds. It was supposed to be Daniels. He smells it, it doesn’t smell bad, it doesn’t look bad.

But he wants ramen noodles so  _ badly,  _ especially the spicy ones are the best. He bites into the apple, it somehow tastes so bland while he stares at Finn take the kettle out of the little fire pit, watching his face with a warm orange hue concentrate on opening the lid and pouring water into it.

“You hungry?” Finn asks, “I still have more in my bag.”

“I-I have my own,” Sean mumbles, staring at his sandwich, “I’m good.”

“Your loss I guess.”

Finn leans back with his arm while Sean drapes himself with the blanket, taking tiny bites of apple before he tosses it into the bushes. He wants to make his moment last, to stretch out the time in this moment. It reminds him so much of the gang’s camping trip. But he could really go for some instant ramen.

He stomachs another bite of his sandwich, the bread tastes so  _ plain _ and the ham is so  _ cold _ .

It’s calm and quiet. Neither of them move, like they’re  _ afraid  _ to break this fragile moment of silence, this calmness full of warmth from the fire. He finds himself staring out into the forest, wondering if his eyes are playing tricks on him. He feels a gentle breeze sway in, the fire dances to it.

Finn takes out a fork and peels off the lid, he carefully sets it in front of him, stirring it with his plastic fork that looks like it belongs to mcdonalds. Sean likes the way that Finn stirs it, so carefully and so slowly.

_ Why is he even looking at him? _

He takes another bite of his sandwich.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 9:29 PM_ **

“Finn do you need any help--”

“I’m fine, go and set up your sleeping bag.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 10, 2016, 10:23 PM_ **

Sean shifts to his side, facing away from Finn.

“Hey Finn?”

Silence, he doesn’t say anything back. Sean doesn’t know if he’s sleeping or not, how some people would pretend to sleep. He brings his hand close to his chest, staring at the smoke from the fire that they put out five minutes ago. 

“Are you awake?”

No answer. He notices how loud his voice against the silence of the forest.

“Why are you helping me?” Sean asks, he waits for an answer, hoping for at least a single answer. But he doesn’t get an answer, just the shuffling of Finn as he moves inside his sleeping bag. He bites his lip. He doesn’t want to go to sleep. He’s restless, memories crawling his eyes and making him remember. 

He has to keep reminds himself three things

  1. He’s a stranger
  2. This isn’t permanent
  3. This is for Daniel



But yet, in the last few hours. Those quickly melted down, thrown away. Now he lays still on his side, staring at the grass as he tries to  _ will  _ himself to go to sleep. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. boundaries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl im not even proofreading this or editing this bc idk lol, but i actually really like this chapter??? idk and im also thinking of skipping a few days for the next chapter because that will be a very important chapter. ALSO, there's this bit where Sean has a flashback so just a warning, it's kinda written that it looks like he's reexperiencing his trauma so im sorry of it's really inaccurate!
> 
> Kudos, comments and feedback is appreciated

_ He walks out of the door, onto his next class as the bell fills the halls. He notices the people, the assholes that laugh loudly in the halls that he sees, he turns around, he can go the long way to his psych class, his teacher will understand. There’s the girls hanging around near their lockers with their phone, they’re not as bad as people make them think. He gives them a wave, one of them waves back. _

_ But he sees someone else, one of the boys in his track team. Riley. He’s a cool dude, he hasn’t talked to him in a while. Tall, blonde hair, brown eyes with that smile that always makes everyone smile as well. Sean stops walking. He stares at him. _

_ He doesn’t know why he’s staring at him. _

_ He can’t help it. _

_ “Dude!” _

_ He turns around, it’s Lyla. _

_ “Hello, love witch,” he says, looking at Riley before looking back at Lyla. _

_ “You looked like you’ve seen Lyla.” _

_ “Shut up! I haven’t seen her!” _

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 11, 2016, 6:09 AM_ **

He’s slowly getting used to the longing of his  _ home _ , his friends, his normal life back in Seattle. He’s slowly getting used to waking up early, having his own body have a natural alarm inside him. He needed to walk somewhere, to stretch and walk around the forest, he’ll grow crazy if he stays in their area.

He sits down near a tree, putting his book in his laptop while his pencil is between his teeth. He has a habit of biting his pencils, he can already taste the wood in his mouth. He puts the lead onto the paper, but his mind is blank. He can’t draw, there’s _ nothing  _ to draw inside his head. It’s weird.

Maybe it’s an Artist’s block. No, he’s not an  _ Artist _ , he’s a doodler. A doodler’s block. He taps the pencil on the paper a few times, staring at the grass in front of him. A gentle wind picks up, the he can see the sun rising, the last remaining darkness from the cold night slowly shying away from the winter sunrise. 

“I can’t fucking think.”

He taps on the paper again.

“Come on Sean.”

He scratches the back of his neck. He draws a line.

“Just… draw something, not that hard.”

He draws another line. He can’t think. He shuts his book with the pencil inside, groaning. It’s weird, he’s always been able to draw. Sean could draw wherever he wants, including the tiny doodles in his exam papers that he always gets around B’s in if he tries hard enough. He sighs, standing up while he stretches his arms out.

“Morning there!”

He looks to his left, it’s Finn.

  
  
  


**_December 11, 2016, 7:02 AM_ **

Normally he would be hastily going to the mall for last minute christmas shopping. Get what he can. A new stuff toy for Daniel. A gift card for Dad. For Lyla it takes him sometime, wandering around the mall to look for something that Lyla would like. Two years ago he got Lyla a bunch of clothes (She kinda liked it) and last year he got two tickets for a show (Not the other one).

But this year, he didn’t get Lyla anything. No searching up prizes online. No scratching his head over which gift card to get. None. He’s out in the wild with a mere stranger. Sean watches him near the lake, filling up his canteen in the running water. It feels weird to watch him like this, vulnerable, his back turned. 

He stands up from the log he’s sitting on.

“Do you need water Max?” Finn asks, “water isn’t that bad.”

“It’s fine, I already filled mine up.”

  
  
  
  
  


**_December 11, 2016, 7:13 AM_ **

“Never have I ever… gone to Jail.”

“Wait, you’ve gone to Jail?”   
  


“I really don’t want to talk about it, guess that blood isn’t thicker than water after all.”

“Ok ok, my turn uhhh… Never have I ever… ran away from home.”

“Guess that makes the two of us.”

“Do you think it’s too late for me to go back home?”

Silence.

“How bad is it?”

“Really bad.”

“Maybe I should go back home.” 

Finn stops walking.

“Never have I ever--”

“I think I’m done playing, Max.”

  
  
  


**_December 11, 2016, 7:23 AM_ **

“Did I say anything out of line, I-I’m sorry if I did.”

“It’s not you, Jesus, it’s  _ me _ .”

It feels like a lie to him. But Sean doesn’t press any further, he presses his lips into a thin line. It’s awkward now. He doesn’t want it to be awkward. Before there was this quiet calm between them but now, it’s tense, it feels like Sean is walking over broken glass. But he  _ doesn’t  _ need to walk over them, but somehow, a feeling inside him wants to.

It’s strange. 

_ He’s just a stranger  _

Sean starts to slow down, making sure that there’s this distance between him and Finn is large enough. He’s behind him, following wherever he’s going in this still silence. If he walks any closer to Finn, he thinks that he’ll say something that will already turn a bad situation into worse. Now they’re just two people walking in the forest in pure silence, there’s no banter about which pizza is the best or how chocolate milk really is that good. Their conversation is impersonal, letting them slowly peak into who they are with a few awkward pauses in between.

Now the silence is drowning him. It shouldn’t be. He shouldn’t care. He’s a stranger. They won’t see each other again when he gets to Mexico.

The forest slowly starts to open up, they begin to walk on a dirt path. Sean sees a wooden sign as they walk past, it’s a national park.

_ Dandenong forest, a place where you can finally breathe _ .

It reminds him of their night a month ago. He stops walking, eyes lingering on the scratches on the sign post, how it’s one of the posts is slightly shorter than the other. It’s all signs of time slowly wearing it down. From the rain weathering it down to the bears that claw at it. The path slowly starts to even out and the forest slowly begins to clear out, it’s less steep, less trees, more paths.

  
  
  
  


**_December 11, 2016, 8:09 AM_ **

They stopped walking, waiting for that couple near the lake to leave. Finn is sitting down, leaning against the tree carving something on a piece of wood with his knife while Sean stares at them from afar.

They look like they’re having fun, laughing and screaming as they splash water at each other in the lake fully clothed. The water must be freezing to the touch, but it looks like it’s not bothering them, only caring about having a bigger splash or wave. It’s weird seeing people doing childish things.

But… it looks so carefree. 

_ “Stop splashing!” _

_ “You’re the one that started this!” _

_ “Back off, I’ll splash you!” _

_ “You’re bluffing.” _ _  
  
_

_ “I’m not.” _

_ “Yes you are.” _

He finds himself smiling.

“They gone yet?”

“They’re still there.”

But a part of himself wants to be there at that lake. How cliche it may be. One of them slows down on the lake, panting, putting a hand up as to surrender.”

_ “Ok… I give up.Time.” _

  
  
  


**_December 11, 2016, 8:32 PM_ **

He’s trying to draw the forest in his book. It’s different from the other ones. The trees are bigger, more rounder and a bit orange. There’s different memories in this very forest than the other ones he’s been through, hidden in little carved memories in the stone or stupid shitty lovehearts carved on the trees with their initials.

This forest is different.

He slowly starts off with the outline of the trees, letting the pencil slowly guide him through the general shape and tiny detail. It starts off messy and small, he’s learned to trust the process and not judge, he has less pages in his sketchbook to scrunch the paper and throw it and try again.

Sean looks up a second time, beginning with a clearer outline of everything. He sees Finn coming out of the trees when he looks up for just a bit to see where the lighting is. Finn looks at him, he doesn’t notice, too caught up that the next time he looks up he sees something else.

Faded cuts and bruises along his chest as Finn changes his shirt.

Sean looks away, pretending to take more time on the shading. It puts thoughts into his head, questions that lingers inside him that he wants to speak out and learn the answers to. He shouldn’t have looked up, he should have kept his head down. Now, Sean knows more about Finn than Finn would like through just a simple glimpse. It’s more personal, less silly banters.

They’re slowly learning more about each other.

And it’s terrifying.

  
  


**_December 11, 2016, 9:09 AM_ **

“We’re taking a different direction, we’ll still get to the train in time.”

“Okay.”

And just like that.

Everything is back to normal. 

  
  
  
  
  


**_December 11, 2016, 9:13 AM_ **

They’re getting good at pretending. Sean with his fake name. Finn pretending that the moment never existed. If Sean was Finn’s friend, if he knew him a little better. He would know the story about the scars and the bruises on his chest, how he got them. 

But he doesn’t.

So they pretend, playing and dancing with pretends through fake names. A delicate balance. 

  
Sean thinks it’s going to shatter and break soon, spill ugly like a wine stain on the carpet. It’ll end ugly. He should leave soon when it all breaks in front of him.

But it shouldn’t matter.

_ He’s a stranger _

“He’s a stranger.”

And he has to keep reminding himself that.

  
  
  
  


**_December 11, 2016, 9:54 AM_ ** **_  
  
_ **

“You hungry?”

“I’m good.”   
  


  
  


**_December 11, 2016, 11:19 AM_ **

There’s still this distance between them. It doesn’t stretch. It’s static, staying the same five meters as before. It’s slowly turning to the new normal for the both of them, staying five meters apart when walking, five meters when taking a thirty second break because Finn’s feet start to hurt.

It’s always five meters.

It’s five meters right now in their little thirty second break while Sean nibbles on a bit of his last candy bars, sittin on a boulder. The five meter is broken, it stretches for just ten seconds while Finn walks around the trees for a little bit. Sean looks inside his bag, taking out his sketchbook as he flips through the pages and--

He feels a papercut on his thumb.

He winces, putting it inside his mouth to ease the pain. But the thought of blood, the taste of copper, the red shiny liquid. He can hear sirens, muffled. Red and blue lights. It feels like the waters crashing onto the shore.

It’s terrifying.

  
He remembers the blood.

He remembers the blood blooming out of Dad’s chest like an ugly flower, soaking his clothes. He remembers the awful smell of gasoline and garden water, and everything around was chaos, a storm that spiralled and bursted into a seam just because a Cop thought that the  _ stupid  _ fake blood is real. He was at the eye of the storm when Daniel screamed, destroying the very street where he grew up.

Now he can’t look at the mailbox, the electricity lines, the houses the same. He’ll think of the chaos, the sense of fear and not knowing where to go and the confusion with the wet grass underneath him, seeing dead bodies while Daniel was unconscious. Making the quick dash. Only caring about making sure that they’re safe.

Now it’ll follow him wherever he goes.

“You alright?”

Sean snaps out of it, taking the thumb out of his mouth. The bleeding stopped.

“We have to keep going if we want to make ground and all--”

“I’m fine,” he says, “just a papercut.”

  
Finn doesn’t believe it, but it’s enough.

Just another add on to their list of playing pretend. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 11. 2016, 1:43 PM_ **

It’s getting colder with each second, the air feels like knives running along his skin with freezing metal. Walking is getting tired and boring. The scenery feels like it’s repeating on and on. It feels like they’re going in circles.

And Sean is all in the ride.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 11, 2016 4:09 PM_ **

He thinks of the stupid graffiti that they did back at Seattle a few years ago. They were freshmen, just meeting Lyla and the gang. They did it in the middle of the night, with the bitter wind behind them and the sort of eagerness and giddiness in them, the sort of excitement and adrenaline that they’re doing something illegal as they spray paint the back of the school.

Just teenagers looking for somefun, pretending to be rebels by just stepping a centimeter off the line. It was like a sign, a stampy saying that they were here, they excited, they drew a stupid  _ fucking  _ dick with veins and a face. It was like the way a child would trace their fingers with a pen, amazed by seeing their own hand imprinted onto the paper.

They got caught a week later. Suspension for all of them. Dad pulled out the  _ ‘I’m not mad, I’m disappointed _ .’ But if he hadn’t done it, if they didn’t go through with it. Then they wouldn’t have made their mark, they wouldn’t have been able to shout that they were  _ here _ , right there at that spot near the abandoned gym equipment with a drawn dick.

Now it’s just a shadow of what it once was, a fading shell. He goes there quite a lot to see if it's been washed off, but the janitors just been lazy. The blank paint is all faded, some parts missing. It’s a past where he can  _ never _ return to. It’s a one way mirror. It’s a memory that he can’t go back to. 

But now he can’t even go back to look at it one last time. He sometimes wishes to be able to break the very rules of the universe that his science teacher told him in one lesson. To turn back the clock. He wants to go back and stop all of this. He wants to go back to being a freshman and sneaking into the school and drawing a fucking  _ dick  _ behind the wall. He wants to fix it all.

How easy it would be to turn back time.

He could make so many mistakes and fix it in a second.

He suddenly starts to feel stupid. It’s what he gets for taking extra poetry classes for credits.

  
  
  
  


**_December 11, 2016, 5:09 PM_ **

They’re steering away from the forests and closer to roads.

  
  
  
  
  


**_December 11, 2016, 5:34 PM_ **

“Where are we going?”   
  


“Motel,” Finn says, he takes out his wallet, “I’m getting fucking tired of having my back being broken when I wake up,” he laughs a little bit.

And this closes the distance just between the two of them.

“I can pay you back--”

“It’s fine, really. My treat.”

  
“Sure.”

The distance shortens to 4 meters. It’s not much, but it’s just enough that it restores what they used to be. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 11, 2016, 6:49 PM_ **

They’re walking on the road now, no longer in the forest. It’s too dark there, the sun’s already set a while ago, now it’s just the black sky filled with nothingness, there’s no moon or stars tonight. They’re all on their own, walking a random road while Finn looks at his phone for the directions. The nearest one is three hours away. It’s going to take a while, but these three hours will feel different because of one reason.

The distance is 4 except 5.

And he has to remind himself that.

Crickets begin to chirp and it fills up the lonely night for the two of them. It’s cold and he feels like he could freeze to death but it reminds him of the summer time. Seattle summers. Skating outside with the gang. Wiping off the sweat from his forehead. Skin feeling hot and feeling the cool breeze feels like a kiss from god while he drinks on his slurpee while he rides around town.

It reminds him of the good. But he should stop thinking of the past. The past is behind him, he can’t go back, there’s no  _ use  _ to think about it. But yet, a bit of him yearns for it again.

A love witch, Daniel, Jenn, the gang,  _ Dad _ .

It no longer exists. He can’t reach it any more. He just has bits of it left, just tiny fragments of it all. He can’t glue it all back together like a broken vase, it doesn’t work like that. It stays broken, and sometimes if he touches it he’ll bleed.

And it’ll hurt.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 11, 2016, 7:21 PM_ ** **_  
  
_ **

His heart skips a beat.

Sean sees a car driving on the road, the spotlight blinding him. There’s this fear that takes over him, circling what they would do. They would stop, get out of the car and beat him. They will beat him bloody. They will beat him until there’s blood streaming down his nose and they will spit on him and that will be all. He’s seen it in the news. He’s terrified of walking in the night sometimes because of it.

And Finn will just stand there.

But that doesn’t happen. Sean turns around for a second and the car drives by and nothing happens. The fear slowly lets him go and he realises that he’s frozen. Finn notices too, he didn’t realise that he turned around.

He doesn’t say anything

He just stands there, confused, not knowing what to do. Sean bites his lip. 

  
  
  
  


**_December 11, 2016, 7:22 PM_ **

Another add on to their list of pretend. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 11, 2016, 8:50 PM_ **

“We got here early.”

The motel is in the middle of nowhere next to a small gift shop that’s closed. It looks sketchy, flashing LED lights, the parking lot looks small with only two cars parked that look like it hasn’t been driven in a while. It looks like it could break within a single touch, the motel looks so cheap and it’s so small. But they can’t complain. This is where they’ll stay for the night.

Sean reads the flashing LED light.

_ Payless motel, save your bucks! _

_ Vacancy: Open _

The one that him and Daniel had was better than this.

The streetlight in the corner blinks on and off into life as they walk towards the office. He feels this sort of heavy weight in his chest, he’s wanted, his face is printed  _ everywhere _ and he’s walking to a stranger. He’s trembling. He bites his lip.

The door opens. The bell rings. It’s bright inside, and small too, only big enough for five people to fit in if they take away the fake plants in the corner. Sean stares out into the windows, then he looks back to the counter where he hears footsteps. There’s this awkward atmosphere between them, the only thing filling the silence is the whirring noise of the fan above them.

“I’m coming! Just give me a second.”

The door behind the counter opens, the owner looks like the typical middle age woman you’ll see in the shops. She fixes her glasses, putting down her cup of tea on the counter before opening up the register.

“Name, ID and fifty bucks.”

“How’s your night been doing ma’am,” Finn says, it reeks of sweet poison, forcing the kindness as Sean watches him pull out his wallet. He hands her the ID and the cash.

“Name.”

“Max and Finn.”

She stares at Finn, then to Sean. She looks at him much longer, he smiles at her, making sure that she doesn’t see him as the same person in the newspapers. She lowers her glasses, then looks back at Finn. He feels this weight off him suddenly fall apart, but this isn’t the end.

This motel feels like it’s his grave.

She writes something in her book, the stillness feels so stiff and heavy. She sighs, taking a key from the drawer and handing it to Finn.

“The only vacant room we have only has one bed,” she says, picking up her cup of tea,  _ English Breakfast, _ “we apologise for any inconveniences,” she opens the door behind the counter, leaving the both of them in the office. She left, just like that.

“Guess my nice manners didn’t work.”

  
  
  
  
  


**_December 11, 2016, 8:51 PM_ ** **_  
  
_ **

“I can take the floor,” Sean says as they step out. Because the thought of sharing the bed with a mere stranger isn’t up his alley. It’s the best they could do, they can’t complain when he’s on the run. 

The bell rings, a gust of wind closes the door behind them. They stay still for only three seconds, the silence, the awkwardness, there’s too much of it lately and he’s been tired of it. He waits for the punchline, the joke to come out to break this silence between them. Something about how they have to share a room, anything,  _ Finn says something already _ .

_ Because this silence, this awkwardness is killing him already. _

“Don’t get any ideas,” Finn chuckles, there it is, it’s supposed to poke fun of him but the tone, the way he says it, it’s different this time, it’s heavy, not light, “you can take the bed.”

And he starts walking.

  
  
  
  
  


**_December 11, 2016, 8:55 PM_ **

The room is a lot smaller, but it’s a bit cleaner than the other motel than he’s been too. Folded towels in the chair on the corner, the bedsheet and the blankets and the pillows doesn’t look too bad, he’s already checked the under for any stains or smells. There’s always the same manufactured painting just above the bed, with the same antique lamp on the same cheap wooden bedside table with the same beige walls.

But there’s no balcony this time and no TV.

These motel rooms, rented by so may strangers that he doesn’t even know. He opens the closet, seeing a sticky note with a phone number written saying  _ call me xoxoxo _ . He cringes, thinking about the mere stranger who was using this exact room for a mere hookup, never to see each other again. 

There would be another stranger who used this room to rest, driving across the country to meet a family friend. 

Another moving all on their own to a city, away from their hometown where their life seemed too small.

None of them are running away from their very lives like this.

He shuts the closet door, sitting at the edge of the bed this time. Finn’s in the shower. He remembers mumbling something about showering first as they walked up the stairs, it sounded empty and dull. It’s not FInn the _jokester_ , there’s something off. Maybe it’s something personal, or just a bad day.

If only he knows Finn like a friend.

He sighs, opening the window with a loud  _ thud,  _ a cloud of dust floats away into the night as he peeks his head out. The sound of water splashing against the tile is muted, and he feels somewhat  _ free  _ with his head out of the window. He closes his eyes, feeling the gentle breeze flow that makes him yearn of the summers that was long ago.

It’s weird, they’ve been outside most of the time. But at this moment, he feels so  _ free _ . He opens his eyes, staring out into the forest that stretches out for miles on end. They still have a long way to go until they get to west to the train, they should make it within a week. But he feels this sinking feeling inside him that pulls him away from the freedom that he just felt five seconds ago.

The feeling that it all will break apart and it’ll be the end of it all.

It wouldn’t just be awkward silence for the day or the distance between them growing. It’ll consist of tears, sirens ringing inside his ears with the hues of reds and blues as it blinds him. It’ll be the end, no dramatic ending or some sort of happy ending for him. 

He just gets caught.

And Finn will watch him get inside the car with handcuffs, he will see the moment that everything will be just  _ gone _ .

He shakes his head, burying his face into his face. He needs fresh air. This window won’t do. He goes outside, looking at the bathroom door for just a moment as he passes. He closes the door behind him, shivering in the cold. The floor creaks beneath him as he walks, hearing the noises from the other rooms. A phone call is going on at room 8, someone’s hooking up at room 7 and there’s a conversation in room 6.

He sits down on the steps, seeing the office lights turn off, then the neon lights flicker off. He’s all alone outside now. Sean takes a cigarette from his pocket, sitting on the steps as he leans against the wall. He’s careful with the lighter, handling it with care as it clicks open, the fire casts a warm glow that reminds him of the Seattle heat so much.

He puts his cigarette between his mouth and ignites it.

Sean feels this sort of ‘high’ as he inhales, feeling this warmth inside him slowly escape as he breathes out the smoke, rising and curling into the air until it dissipates. There would be times where he would smoke at night, just after studying for a stupid exam or just as he gets home. He would sit in the backyard and scroll through his phone, the soft blue hues lighting up his face.

He wishes he has his phone.

Instead he stares up into the universe and watches it do it’s own thing. Let nature do it’s own cool, stupid and scary thing. It’s like what Lyla said about the universe, the stars.

How they’re all dead.

He wishes she’s here.

  
  
  
  


**_December 11, 2016, 9:05 PM_ ** **_  
  
_ **

He comes back inside and sees FInn with just a white tank top and his jeans, all his other clothes and bag placed just near the door, just in case they need to leave quickly. He closes the door behind him. There’s this heavy weight between them. Sean knows what it is.

“I’m sorry about the game I played, this morning.”

Finn begins to unroll his sleeping bag down on the floor, “it was hours ago, drop it man.”

“I just--”   
  


“You didn’t say anything,” Finn says, his tone is different, if only Sean knew him better, knew him as a friend he would be able to pierce through the layers and uncover what he’s hiding between his words, “you’re so worried, jesus.”

Finn sounds just like Lyla would do, casts the problem aside and just  _ forgets  _ about it, maybe throws in a couple jokes here and there and pretends that everything is fine. It’s not,  _ nothing _ is fine. He can feel it with the way he acts, the atmosphere between them, the awkward silent moments. 

He opens his mouth to speak, but he stops. It shouldn’t matter. He keeps saying it to himself.

“Please don’t tell me you were gonna say something along the lines of ‘you can talk to me about  _ anything _ ’ or something like that Max.”

“I--”   
  


He stops. They stare at each other, he notices Finn’s still wet hair, the tattoos hidden under his layers of clothes, a little tornado near on his lower neck, a tiny house on his shoulder, an uncompleted colourless butterfly on his arm. Finn’s eyes wander throughout his body, from his face, stopping at his lips before going down to his legs. This moment feels so  _ dangerous  _ and intoxicating, he wants more, the both of them do.

But Finn stops it before it grows any further than they want it to, he turns around like he doesn’t want to face Sean. 

“We don’t know shit about each other, we’re fucking strangers Max. We know  _ nothing  _ about each other. We will forget about each other when we reach the fucking train, i’d like to keep it that way. I’m sorry.”

_ I’m sorry.. _

_ Like he actually means it _ .

  
He doesn’t know why that last bit hurt, the pain inside his chest as it echoes. It’s true. They’re strangers, they’re using each other. He’s using Finn to get to Mexico easier, Finn is using him for  _ something.  _ They will forget each other when they get what they need. They will part ways. They will forget each other and be nothing more than a distant memory, he’ll be another person in a sea of thousands of faceless strangers Sean has met throughout his life.

But he doesn’t want that.

And he doesn’t know why.

He doesn’t want to be like  _ Karen _ , he doesn’t want to leave mere strangers behind like this, let alone friends and families. He doesn’t want to be a monster, he doesn’t want to get up one day and leave because he got sick of it all. He’ll stay. He won’t move. He doesn’t want to. 

Finn does.

“I’m going to go get some fresh air,” Finn says, his voice so small and quiet, like he’s afraid of it breaking. He squeezes past Connor, opening the door, feeling the cold air enter the room. The door closes. The cold air stops coming in. He’s left all alone..

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 11, 2016, 10:43 PM_ **

It’s dark, he sees the door open from the shadows casting along the wall. He hears the footsteps from him, so slow and so  _ heavy _ . Like he’s exhausted, dragging along a metal and ball.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 11, 2016, 11:44 PM_ **

In another life they would be friends, perhaps even  _ best friends _ . If he would, if he can, he would let Finn into his bed, share the blanket with him and let him get close to him, share the warmth between them. He would hold him, just enough that the fragile pieces won’t fall apart and whatever Finn is feeling will rot away.

Because he can see it, hear it just enough Whatever it is, it’s slowly cracking him, there’s too much of it inside Finn. He wants to help. He wants to be there, not 2 meters apart but  _ close _ . He’ll hold him in the darkness, he’ll help.

But he can’t do that.

Because they agreed they will stay as strangers, even though they know a bit more about each other than they wanted to.They’re not strangers, they’re acquaintances.

And acquaintances can ask small things.

“I can’t sleep,” he whispers into the darkness, the darkness provides them with the sense of security, comfort, that they can’t spill ugly secrets and it won’t spoil and rot.

He knows that Finn can’t sleep, he’s heard him shuffling a few times. Twisting and turning, trying to get the best spot to fall asleep in. Finn’s awake, he knows it. He can just push just a bit more.

“Did you have friends back home? Finn?”   
  


“I did.”

“What were they like?”

Silence. 

“You should get some sleep, Max.”

He hears him move, Finn’s facing the wall now.

Sean pushed too far, maybe he shouldn’t have pushed at all. He’s like that, greedy, always wanting more. It’ll hurt him in the long run, it’ll hurt the both of them from Sean’s greediness. But for now, they can stay silent.

And they can play pretend for just a bit more longer until it all comes crumbling down.

  
  
  


**_  
  
_ **

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. flicker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter sets up the next chapter which is going to be ........ WILDDDD FR, but hopefully they're going to be fine.
> 
> honestly idk lol
> 
> Kudos, comments and feedback is appreaciated

_ He doesn’t mind his job at Z-mart, it’s not that bad. He’s lucky, getting okay pay with okay coworkers and with an okay boss that needs to work on his sense of humour. It’s just one of those days, where the customers slowly start to get on his nerves and push his boundaries and limits. _

_ And right now he never wants to shout at an old white woman so badly. _

_ “I’m sorry ma'am it’s just that your coupon is already expired a couple of months ago--” _

_ “Try it again! And again after that! You’re just doing it wrong that’s all--” _

_ “Hey,” his boss comes over to the cashier, “I can handle this, Sean go help Darren with the storage.” _

_ Thank whatever god that blessed him today. _

_ He nods, getting out of the cashier, feeling this sense of heavy weight break apart, dispitating with each step of the squeaky supermarket white tiled floors that he always sees. He sighs, stretching out his arms as he walks towards the back. _

_ Guess he owes his boss now. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 12, 2016, 6:06 AM_ **

He remembers last night. How long it took for Sean to drift off to sleep, to dream the very limbo itself that somehow stretches for millions of miles, only filled with just dust and darkness. He used to dream. Now he can’t. 

He feels like he took dreams for granted.

He looks over to Finn who’s still sleeping, they should leave soon, they can make more track when they start early. He feels his stomach rumble as he steps outside, closing the door behind him slowly to not wake Finn up. He sighs, staring out into the sunrise. Just a sea or beautiful oranges, blues and purples mixing together. 

Sean reaches into his pockets and checks his wallet, pulling out the only notes and coins he has left. Only  _ $20.54  _ left, only managing to find the tiniest pennies dropped my mere strangers on the road and in the streets. It’s not much, but it’ll keep him alive. He needs food. He’s starving.

But he doesn’t want to spend it.

He scratches the back of his head, walking down the stairs, making sure ot keep his head down in case anyone sees him. He can maybe get some candy bars or a sandwich in the gift shop.

  
  
  
  
  


**_December 12, 2016, 6:12 AM_ **

“That’ll be  _ $4.45 dollars _ .”

He looks up, the owner looks at him suspiciously, like he’s a murderer, a criminal. It only lasts for a second, but it’s enough that Sean thought that his run would be done there and then.

“Here.”

“Are you around from here?”

Sean puts his hands into his pockets, looking down onto the floor, “no, just stopping by.”

“Your family with you?”

“Yeah, they’re asleep.”

Silence.

“Have a great day.”

He gets his candy bars and breakfast biscuits and leaves quickly. It’s not enough, but it’ll last him two more days.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 12, 2016, 7:09 AM_ **

He looks at Finn from the opposite corner of the room. There’s the stupid distance again, like they’re  _ afraid  _ that if they touch or get near other they’ll break, they’ll shatter, they’ll fall apart from how fragile they are.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Finn asks as he looks inside his bag, digging through shirts and jackets to find something.

“I thought that you wanted to sleep in.”

“Because  _ you thought that I wanted to sleep in _ ,” he repeats him with a dry chuckle, it’s dripping with sarcasm, the type he hates where there’s  _ too much _ , too annoying. He hates it. He absolutely hates it. He hates how he repeated him with a sort of tone that annoys Sean. He hates him.

“I’m sorry,” Sean replies, pretending to fix his shoe lace by the door because his body doesn’t know what to do, “I should have woken you up.”

Finn doesn’t respond. Sean notices the domesticity of this moment, it feels like they just woke up in the morning, getting ready to go to work or go to school. It’s strange, how Sean’s missing simplicity and normality, the sense of having a stupid schedule to follow. Wake up, eat, school, exist for a minute, sleep.

He thought that was exhausting.

Now he wants it back.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 12, 2016, 7:18 AM_ **

“Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 12, 2016, 7:19 AM_ **

He remembers the sort of feelings that he had when he was running out of the motel with Daniel leaning against him in the middle of the night when he awakened his powers. He remembers the tears, the utter chaos, the blaring sirens that made it hard to hear what Daniel was saying to him.

That memory won’t go away. Those feelings are still inside him, it’s awakening as he steps outside.

He sees a single cop car parked just in front of the motel.

It feels like his throat is closing up and it’s getting harder to walk. He bites his lip. Those feelings back then, the fear that they’ll get caught and the fear is all rushing back. 

“Sean--”   
  


“The police know I'm here,” he says, stopping for a moment, “they’ll send me back if he see me.” 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Finn mumbles, “we need to run.”

He holds Sean’s hands so tightly that he’ll never slip away from his grip. They go down the stairs, hear the metal creaking and thudding underneath their step while they run to the back, into the forest yet again. Sean hears shouting, the cop on the phone, the yelling from the owner. It all slowly drowns away as they head deeper into the forest, scared.

It feels like they’re hunting him like wolves.

  
  
  
  
  


**_December 12, 2016, 7:35 AM_ **

“I-I think we lost him.”

Sean collapses onto the forest floor, he’s wheezing, short breaths, straining just for some oxygen to keep him alive. It reminds him that at anytime that they mess up, he’ll get caught, they will go to jail together.

Finn for helping him.

Sean for the colour of his skin.

And it’s terrifying to think about.

He lifts up his heads, only realising that they’re lost. They took so many twist and turns, hoping to lose that stupid cop that they’ve lost what direction they were going. They’re lost in the forest. 

“But we’re lost as well,” Finn mumbles.

  
  
  
  
  


**_December 12, 2016, 8:05 AM_ **

Sean cups water from the lake and splashes it onto his face, hoping that it’ll somehow wake him up and jolt him awake. 

Finn has the map and the compass. He’s frustrated, he can see it in his eyes, tense, concentrated, but also  _ scared _ . Scared that they will get  _ stuck  _ here for a while, lost deep within the woods with no sense of direction on where to go. Sean wishes he can help him, to ease the stress just a little bit.

But he  _ knows  _ he can’t. The distance between them is still there.

And it’ll foster and rot like a disease, a virus, a sort of  _ plague  _ that will poison how close they can get to each other, how much they can spill of who they are before they stop. It’ll be a horrible disease, more then the Black Death. Because this will start slow, it’s already taking place.

It’s getting worse.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 12, 2016, 10:29 AM_ **

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For getting us lost in the woods.”   
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 12, 2016, 3:32 PM_ **

He remembers the day that he saw Jenn. He remembers the first glance that he took that made him have a  _ stupid _ crush on her. It was the very last period of the day last year, Maths. There was this sweltering heat from the summer and the stupid air conditioner wasn’t working. He kept fanning himself with his book, sighing as he tried to get himself to focus on the stupid trig work on the board.

Sean couldn’t. He accidentally knocks the pen from the desk, but when he bent down to pick it up from the ground he felt a hand. Smooth, but also a bit rough around the edges. He looked up, there she was,  _ Jenn _ . There was this something about her smile, and the way that her brown eyes melts into a pool of honey when the sunlights hits.

_ “You dropped this.” _

_ “Oh… thank you.” _

She turned back around, going back to her written notes and neat book and her  _ stupid  _ pink pencilcase. He watched her pay attention to the board that period, he didn’t learn a single  _ thing  _ from that fifty minutes. He only just  _ sat  _ there, staring, looking, glancing from afar.

It also caused him to get an 39% on his trig test.

He wonders how Jenn is doing, she isn’t trekking through the forest, starving, freezing as he uses branches from the trees to get himself up would she? She would be sitting in her room, listening to a shitty pop song while staring at her ceiling. There would be a bit of fear, a bit of thought about Sean. But it’ll just be an afterthought, it’ll melt away within a second.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 12, 2016, 3:33 PM_ **

He stares at Finn, and he wonders if he had a lover before, a partner, a crush before all of this. He wonders if Finn could be capable of love with his silly, arrogant yet funny personality, always making jokes and putting humour into  _ everything  _ that fits into. Sean wonders what Finn would attract, as Sean looks at him sigh, wiping off the cold sweat from his forehead.

Maybe it’s the type of people that likes his stupid humour. The type of people who likes the sense of adventure, the sense of carefree and laughter. Finn can attract  _ anyone _ , anyone with a pair of eyes can see that. He has the bad boy set up, tattoos, rings, clothing. Sean likes the way his jawline looks from his distance, the way that his tattoo shows just a bit more of his personality.

He likes it.

_ It shouldn’t matter.to him _

Sean shakes his head. Bites his lower lip. Throw the thought away, throw it in the well and lock it up in the darkness where no one can find it. It’s a secret, a sort of secret that Sean doesn’t want to admit. He hates it. Sean wants to destroy it, to light it up into flames where it’s burnt into crisps.

But he can’t do that with secrets. It sticks to him like glue, it will stay with him till the very end, it will stay as guilt and regret after this, no longer a secret, just a memory. It’ll hurt, it’ll sting. It’ll feel like he’s cutting a limb off him when the secret turns cold. He Finn, so concentrated on that  _ stupid _ map that he almost trips over a root from a tree. He mumbles a swear, something like  _ you’re fucking shitting me _ .

He’s constantly finding himself looking at Finn. Seam doesn’t know why, observing his actions and how he grits his teeth or how his eyes changes the more he looks at the map. He can’t help it. HIs eyes just  _ naturally  _ drits towards him.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 12, 2016, 6:21 PM_ **

He feels his stomach growl. Sean winces, staring at the ground beneath him. The leaves on the ground, how it rustles with just a tiny  _ shift  _ of his body. Finn stops playing with the piece of wood, putting down the knife next to him.

“You hungry?”

“I already bought some.”

“Candy bars isn’t going to cut it bud,” Finn says, sounding so  _ normal _ , not tense or awkward in certain scenarios, “we should be close to some gas station or something.”

“I can pay you back--”

“It’s fine.”

He bites his lip, he feels bad for Finn spending money on him. He doesn’t deserve it, he’s fine, he can hang on for a day or two, he isn’t going to die. Sean needs to give him the money back somehow, maybe he can somehow show it in another way, through simple kind gestures, or a sketch of Finn.

He has lots of them in his sketchbook already.

“Thank you.”

“I’m not helping you just so I can hear you say  _ Thank you  _ a hundred more times.”

  
  
  
  
  


**_December 12, 2016, 9:23 PM_ ** **_  
  
_ **

They made the fire an hour ago. It was simple, the same routine. _ Sean stay here, I’ll go get some sticks and wood to feed to the fire.  _ It’s like they’ve fallen into this small routine, so easy to get hang of. A little while ago they talked, just for a little bit. Something along the lines of where to go next.

Their destination.

And now they sit around the fire in the darkness of the forest, heat wraps around Sean and it reminds him of his bed back at Seattle.  _ Warmth _ , he misses that sort of feeling. He takes out the sandwich that he’s been saving that Finn bought for him, he puts it near the flames. 

  
“Heating it up,” Sean says.

He puts his hands in front of the fire, his hands glow a soft yellow orange hue.

“It might burn.”

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t.”

He takes the sandwich, carefully taking off the weird gas station wrapping. Sean stares at the pickles, he can’t throw it to the fire, he can’t afford to be picky. He used to be able to, taking out the disgusting pickles in his sandwiches and burgers, chucking it away into the bush. Now he can’t.

He takes small bites from the sandwich to make it last longer. Maybe it doesn’t work like that, but he does it anyway, letting his hands do  _ something  _ in the moment. He misses the taste of gas station food for some reason, no matter how  _ shit  _ it tastes. The oily bacon, the overly dry lettuce and bland cheese fills his mouth. It tastes like cardboard.

But it fills him up just a bit more..

He tosses the packaging into the fire, the fire dances for a bit, before settling down. He watches the plastic melt, turning into a sloppy mess. 

“I had a friend,” Sean says, it feels like they’re just starting from where they left off that  _ night _ , “her name is Lyla.”

“She nice?”

“She’s an absolute asshole,” Sean chuckles, staring into the fire, trying to bring back the memories that they had together. All those  _ stupid  _ halloween photos when his Dad forced him to tag Daniel along, the sticky fake blood felt disgusting when he smiled for the picture that Lyla took.

She was smiling back then.

Now she’s on medication.

“I had someone like that too, when I was younger. Fucking hated him.”

“Who was it?”   
  


“My brother,” Finn says, he goes silent for a moment, like he’s growing smaller and smaller, “he’’s a bit of an asshole but my Dad….” he pauses, hesitating, his voice grows quietens and it’s like Sean is watching him slowly die. 

“Finn?”

“Sorry,” he says, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “I just… I’m just out of it. I-I don’t know why.”

“It’s fine.”

They both stare at each for just a moment, just for a second. It’s long enough that he can see the sort of quiet pain in Finn’s eyes, making him wonder and question what he went through, his life and what it was like. It’s the sort of pain that’s quiet, small, the pain that comes up when it’s opening old wounds and scabs from memories

And he  _ hates  _ how useless he feels.

“We can sleep early, if you want.”

“No,” Finn shakes his head, “fuck that.”

  
  
  
  
  


**_December 13, 2016, 12:23 AM_ **

Smoking a joint with a mere stranger.

It’s weird the more he thinks about it, but he slowly zones out and he feels his body relaxing. He leans back to his arms, looking up to the stars while the branches sway and dance in the trees. It sounds like a song, a sort of lullaby while the stars twinkle in rhythm. He giggles a bit, and his body feels all funny and weird.

He feels so… free.

Sean feels like he’s letting go of  _ everything _ , undoing the shackles from his legs, feeling the weight lift off from his chest. He can breathe. He can laugh. He doesn’t remember much before this moment. He only remembers Finn asking him for a smoke,  _ just one  _ he said,  _ no more, no less _ .

And he took it.

“Why do the stars look so… funny?” Sean says, giggling as he points up into the sea of stars that shine so bright. 

“You are so  _ high _ , man,” Finn says, looking at Sean. He looks at Finn too.

“I’m not, I swear!” He says, eyes trailing to his face, his tattoos, going down to the bridge of his nose and to his lips. His  _ lips _ . It’s weird how they look. How they’re shaped. How  _ soft  _ they look. He’s only noticing it now.    
  


“First time?” Finn asks, shifting his position where he can get just a bit more closer to Sean. He likes that he’s getting close to him. 

“No....” Sean pauses, “yeah....”

He hasn’t taken his eyes off him. He can’t get them off. It’s sort of  _ stuck  _ on Finn’’s lips, maybe it’s because he’s high. Maybe he’s tired. But his eyes are stuck on his lips.

“Shit…” Finn says, Sean watches his lips move, “my bad then.”

“It’s fine it’s just… that--oh god this is strong shit--you’re like the 2nd best person to do drugs with.”

“Only saying it because you’re high.”

“No. I am not!” He giggles, they lock eyes for a split second, but quickly breaks, “I’m fucking fine! Fuck off.”

Sean smiles, it feels like the halloween party that he never got to. But his mind is hazy, cloudy from the fucking weed he smoked. It feels like a two man party, just the two of them high in the middle of the forest all alone. But it also hurts, just a bit. He can feel it cracking, how he never got to that party with Lyla. He never got to make out with Jenn.

_ He should’ve just gone outside earlier _ .

It stings and the pain echoes inside him..

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 13, 2016, 3:12 AM_ **

“D-do you ever miss someone so bad that… it hurts?”

SIlence.

He thinks he’s shocked Finn, maybe pushed him away from this sort of question. He can’t help it, he’s  _ trying _ to push that feeling down to his stomach, where it’ll rot away from his acid and it won’t leave a single trace. But it’s leaking out, spilling at the lip and he feels like he’s about to burst.

And it hurts. To leave behind a world that was taken away from him so  _ forcefully _ . He watched it break down in front of him. He misses Daniel so much that it  _ hurts, _ it’s making him hurt, it’s breaking him at the corners and he doesn’t know what to do. Sean can’t go back. They know he’s gone. He’s not welcome back.

_ He didn’t want to leave _

“Finn?” He says he wants to turn around and face him. To look at him in the face, to see his eyes stare right back at him. Tears runs down as it dampens his cheeks just a little bit. He’s choking, choking on his decisions and his tears, suffocating in silence.

And it hurts.

“Go to sleep,” he says, “we’ll talk in the morning.”

He’s only noticed how it only happens at night. 

_ The darkness provides a false sense of security to draw out the tiniest of secrets _ .

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 13, 2016, 11:21 AM_ **

His head is pounding with pain, it feels like he’s about to explode open as he sits up slowly, groaning as he opens his eyes. Sean remembers bits and pieces from last night, them getting smoking a joint then slowly getting high together and talking about something. That’s about it.

He touches his cheek, it feels damp, wet. Like he’s been crying.

“You good?”

Sean shakes his head, he brings his knees into his chest, “I feel fucking horrible.”

“Drink some water, take it easy. We’ll stand up in thirty minutes.”

“What the hell did we do last night,” he asks, looking up into the sky, the light trickles through leaves, the sun is already almost at the centre of the sky, “did I do anything that I would--”   
  


“No,” Finn shakes his head, “y-you’re fine. Just… take it easy, don’t stand up yet.”

“Why not?”   
  
“You’ll throw up everywhere.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 13, 2016, 12:12 PM_ **

They started walking five minutes ago. Sean feels a little bit better but he feels  _ different. _ He feels like he spaced out, sort of  _ empty _ , a hallow feeling inside that’s looming inside his chest. It feels like he’s almost like a ghost, only floating by through the forest. Maybe it’s the weed, some sort of shitty symptom or side affect but he feels  _ different _ .

Almost like he’s  _ lost _ , only following Finn who’s going around in mere circles. 

But he notices some of the sounds changing and shifting too. He’s hearing less birds flap its wings into the air, to call out into the wilderness to mark it’s territory. He’s heard less of the leaves crunching beneath his feet with each single step he makes. The area around him is shifting, changing.

They’re moving away from the forest.

  
  


**_December 13, 2016, 4:32 PM_ **

“We’re crashing at someone’s place, just before we get to the train.”

Sean looks up from his sketchbook, it’s still hard to draw. He looks at his sketches for just a second, the eyes look weird, the trees look a bit bent. It looks like the lines are spiralling out of control, turning into a mess as it’s falling apart right at his sketchbook.

“Why didn’t you say that?”

“Because I thought you already knew.”

_ Because I thought you already knew _

It feels like a lie that must feel so  _ bitter  _ in Finn’s mouth. But Sean plays along, closing his sketchbook, putting his pencil into his pocket. His head still hurts. He hasn’t recovered fully from all the weed he took.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 13, 2016, 5:34 PM_ **

He knows he shouldn’t do it, but he’s good at this, being more stealthy and sneakier each time. He’s done it before in the gas station with Daniel, stealing and taking glances at things. This is no different.

_ Is it? _ _  
  
_

He knows he shouldn’t peek. He  _ knows  _ this is wrong. If Finn finds him looking, it’ll ruin the already fragile relationship that they have. But Sean feels like he should know, uncover just a bit of the secrets that he’s hiding underneath. He opens up Finn’’s bag slowly, making sure he’s looking if he’s come back from the forest.

It’s open.

He rumages through his clothes. His things. His water bottle. All the normal things. But he  _ feels  _ something thin, like a photograph. He takes it out of the bag, letting it out into the sun. He can see the fingerprints, the tiny folds and creases that adds to that  _ age  _ of the photo. 

It’s a picture of what looks like Finn in his past, wearing some sort of work uniform. There’s other people there, three. Smiling and laughing, arms around their back. They look so… normal, sort of innocent. He can’t make out who Finn is in the photo, he can’t see the shitty dreadlocks or tattoos on his face.

Instead all he sees is four teenagers laughing and smiling.

Maybe they could be friends, or family. But he can’t tell.

The photo lingers in his hands just a bit longer, like he doesn’t want to put it back. He wants to keep it, to ask Finn who these people are and where he is in the picture. He hesitantly places the photo back into Finn’s bag, zipping it close. He steps back, staring at the bag. The little frays at the seams, the sort of stain on the front.

_ What else is he hiding in there? _

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 13, 2016, 7:43 PM_ ** **_  
  
_ **

The forest is dwindling away. And what’s left is farms and tractors and cows that stares at Sean when they walk past them. It’s weird to see their eyes in the dark, glowing a hellish sort of green glow that scares the shit out of him. The past few hours feels like a blur, mixing together too much that he can’t make any sense of it.

“Where are we?”

“One day away from the train. We’re staying here for a while, I know someone.”

Sean nods, kicking the pebble as they go underneath a street lamp. They haven’t crossed on in a while. It’s hard to see on the road, it’s dark, barely any street lamps placed around. But he also likes the darkness as well, the sea of stars above is more vibrant, more noticable. It reminds him of the sticky glow in the dark stars that he used to have stuck high into the ceiling.

He would count them just to help him fall asleep.

He walks behind Finn just a few metres behind. It feels like the distance between them is melting away. 

“Why are we staying?”

“Because…” Finn pauses, securing his backpack, “you need time to think this over.”

“What do you mean?”   
  


“Because running away from home isn’t the brightest idea sometimes. Tried it. Said  _ ‘fuck it’ _ and just took off. It was just me. But I’ve seen it change people, shake some people i’ve come across.”

It sort of feels like he’s diving into Sean’s very memories and his experiences, pulling it out at his very core and making him stop. But he doesn’t want to stop. He  _ has  _ to keep going, to keep walking miles upon miles just for Daniel. He’s doing it for Daniel. He has to remind himself that every  _ day _ .

_ Or is it doing it for himself? _

“I can’t go back,” Sean says, thinking about home, the chaos,  _ Daniel, Lyla, his Dad _ , he left it all behind, “I have no home now.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 13, 2016, 8:23 PM_ **

He looks around the vast open land all around them as Finn knocks on the door of a small house. The veranda feels like it’s breaking underneath him, and the rocking chair is eerily rocking on it’s own, it’s freaky.

The door swings open, old country music and the light from inside floods into the outside. A Man in his 50’s walks out, staring at Finn then at Sean. He looks at him just a bit longer.

_ He knows. _

“Come in, no one followed you Finn?”

“No, of course not.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. inferno

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT THIS IS KINDA LIKE THE LAST CHAPTER OF THIS 'EPISODE' I GUESS IDK, THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL TAKE A LONG TIME SINCE I HAVE A LOT OF COMMITMENTS BUT THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR STICKING WITH ME I LOVE YOU ALL
> 
> Also, just to note there's a prompt in the chapter that tells you to play a song near the end, and it's [this](https://youtu.be/3Xu4BaIvgkA)
> 
> sorry of this chapter sucks lol
> 
> Kudos, comments and feedback is appreciated <3

Chapter 5: inferno

  
  


_ He watches his little brother play with one of his toys. Sean pouts at him, he hates this. He hates having to share his toys. He hates having another sibling, having to share his things and slowly giving up all his toys. He hates it. He hates him. He wants him to leave. He wants him to go. _

_ But Dad said that he has to deal with him. _

_ Daniel looks at him funny. He doesn’t like that. So he sticks out his tongue, forcing out his tongue to the longest it can go. It’s hard to do. One of his friends told him how to do it properly, just stick it out and pretend you're balancing a coin on your own tongue. It’s pretty hard to do.  _

_ “Stop playing with my toys!” _

_ He only looks at him, confused. He looks so weird like that, a stupid bib on him. Sean doesn’t need a bib. He’s too old for that. He gets up from the floor, scratching the back of his neck. He’s tired of Daniel. He’s tired of his stupid baby brother. He can go back to where the seagulls brought him. _

_ Another one of his friends said that babies come from the big, big, big snowy mountains near here. _

_   
_ _ So Daniel can go there. And Sean won’t have to deal with him. He watches him pick up those baby lego blocks for just a few more seconds, watching the saliva drip from his mouth. _

_ Gross _

_ He’s done. _

_ Sean opens the door, “Mum! I don’t like Daniel!” _

_ Nothing. _

_ He walks out to the hallway. He hears the TV on, captain crunch is on, but he likes Hawt Dawg Man better. His Dad is there, sitting on the couch. He looks sad, sort of like how Sean is right now. But he looks angry as well. Weird _

_ “Where’s Mum?” _

_ He looks at Sean, he smiles at him quickly, “I don’t know, Mijo,” he pauses for a bit, standing up, Sean notices weird bits under his eyes, it’s dark, gross, “she’ll come home. What do you want for dinner?” _

  
  
  
  


**_December 14, 2016, 9:52 AM_ **

He doesn't remember much from last night. He remembers collapsing straight to a bed, in a room that him and Finn have to share. He fell asleep soon after, too exhausted to have a conversation or talk. Sean sits up from his bed, so soft and delicate. He needed this after a week in the wild. 

He looks at the floor next to him, Finn’s already awake, his sleeping bag already made. 

Sean sighs, staring out to the window of their room. A perfect view of a flat grounds, nothing but crops and tractors and cows for miles. That sort of life sounds kind of good for him, after all he’s been through, he needs a break. He slowly gets out from his bed, rummaging through his clothes to see the least dirty as he quickly changes to it.

Just jeans and his squad hoodie on top of a random t-shirt.

He groggily gets out of the room, the cold wooden floorboards creaking beneath him. He sees no one in the small living room, no one in the ‘kitchen’ which is just a little corner with a sink and a stove and a few cupboards. It’s awfully silent, he hates it. 

There’s a note on the counter of the kitchen.

_ Make something for yourself, there’s some eggs and bread or someshit in the cupboards - Finn _

His stomach growls and twists and turns, he hasn’t eaten much over the week. He only lives off candy bars and one burger. He walks over to the cupboard, pulling out eggs and bread as he turns on the gas stove.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 14, 2016, 10:22 AM_ **

He feels full. 

Stuffed, filled to the brim. It reminds him of his pizza nights every Saturday while they watch  _ Top Gear,  _ watching and groaning as the celebrity messes up the sharp turns on the track. He always feel full after watching it.

He sighs, sitting over to the living room as he feels the couch that looks like it belongs to Reynold's shift under his weight. He noticed the house is small, compact. But the little things that fills the rooms are cheap as well, little fragile trinkets from nearby gift shops, tiny family photos hanging up on the walls. 

It’s almost like they built it themselves.

He feels strange living in a strangers house. It doesn’t feel like Reynolds, warm and inviting. Family feeling like mere strangers that is slowly making up the lost time after Karen left. But this house, it feels  _ fragile, _ a hollow shell of what it once was. Only the family photos are there to stop it from completely rotting.

He hears the door squeak open. Sean stands up, watching Finn and the stranger that left him walk over to the living room. He looks old, mid fifties. The sort of person who’ll wager on the building on the wall. The sort of person who’ll whine about immigrants.

He feels this unpleasant feeling inside him.

The man walks up to him, fixing his moustache as he takes off his trucker hat, “my, my it isn’t Sean. Finn’s been talking a storm about you!” He says, so  _ charmingly  _ and loud that it fills the whole room. 

He smiles weakly, offering a handshake. The man takes it, he hates that sweaty feeling. 

“Name’s Jason.”

“Max.”

He looks at Sean up and down for just a quick second before he looks back at Finn. Jason sighs, putting his hands into the pocket of his jeans that’s way too big for him, “you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you.”

They stay silent for just a minute, it’s enough that Sean is  _ screaming _ at himself to say something, anything to break the silence between them. Jason sighs, while a Finn walls over to the kitchen to get a drink

“You can stay here for as long as you want—“

“We’re staying for three days, actually,” Finn cuts in.

“Three, why only Three?”

“Festival over to the west.”

_ Finn lied to him _

“Gotcha,” he nods, “I’ll be out for most of the day for errands so the house is yours, don’t go into my room and don’t break anything and you’ll be fine.” 

“K,” Finn replies. Sean watches him turn around, walk out of the front door again. Suddenly Finn switches, like someone flipped a switch. He walks over to the living room, rummaging through the cabinets and the cupboards in the little corner.

“Remember. Act like a festival hipster. You’ll be fine.”

“What are you doing? Are you stealing from him?”

He looks back at Sean, “he’s one of the only family member that I trust, he’s a fucking idiot that I scab off him from time to time when I need it.”

“I just—“

“Got a better idea?” Finn pulls out a couple of twenty bucks from the cabinet, “need the money, it’s a start man. Trust me on this, he won’t even notice it’s missing! He’s fucking blind!”

There’s this guilt that’s beginning to fester in him already. It’s going to sit inside him for a long time, spoiling everything inside him until he bursts. They shouldn’t be doing this. This is wrong. They shouldn’t be stealing. But they need it, they need the money, to squeeze out every penny that they can find so Sean can cross the border.

It’s all what matters.

But he hates doing this.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 14, 2016, 10:23 AM_ **

  
  


He’s drawing.

He hasn’t done that in a while, the pencil in his hands feels like weights. It’s leavy, weighing him down even though it’s just a  _ pencil _ . It’s just made of wood. It’s  _ nothing _ . It shouldn’t be feeling this  _ heavy _ in his hands. But it is. He smoothes out his paper, staring at the bare living room which is just a corner.

It’s just a sofa that looks like it belongs to a retirement house and a wooden coffee table with four legs with nothing on it. There’s nothing filling this house, just an empty shell, a sort of cabin that’s unloved, full of nothing but necessities. It’s weird to look at.

He shakes his head, staring to sketch out the general shapes out of the living room, the roughness of the wooden walls and wooden floorboards. It’s hard to draw, the pencil dragging him down to the very core of the earth. The lines are scattered, unfocused, wavering and breaking up every once in a while.

He does the details, adding the bits of shading, the tiny screws and the dust and the cobwebs. It’s slowly coming together, but it’s still skewered, rough,  _ weird _ . He puts the pencil down and sighs, staring at the little sketch he’s done. It’s not like the other ones he’s done. This one took harder to draw.

He turns over to the next page and starts to draw people from his very memory. It’s much easier to draw than rooms and environments. There’s more to focus on. He can draw the little strands of hair from Lyla or the little tuft of hair from Daniel or the way that Jenn smiles at him.

His hand, the  _ pencil _ . It starts to loosen.

Then slowly, he sketches those dreads that he has, the tattoos on his face, the bandana on his neck. He remembers Finn a lot more clearer, more detail than the other people that he drew. He draws Finn with such care, taking it slow like he’s  _ afraid  _ that a single mistake will break the whole thing and ruin it.

He spent more time on Finn than anyone else. Finn looks so much… softer, a gentle smile. So sweet. So gentle. A sight for sore eyes, mesmerizing. He doesn’t know why. It’s  _ terrifying  _ and confusing, like he’s going into the unknown everytime he looks at him. Always changing. Always shifting.

_ He hates it. _

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 14, 2016, 11:43 AM_ **

He keeps staring at the  _ stupid  _ sketches of pirates that he made in his sketchbook, reminding him of the cold nights in the cabin in the middle of the forest. Their little home away from everyone.

“Okayyy… I rolled a six, one… and three.”

“You can turn the six into a ship but you’re gonna have to roll again for the captain and crew.”

Finn looks at Sean for a moment, then back down to the shitty boat that Sean drew in the last second, “so like that?”

He looks at the paper, staring at Finn’s hand resting on top of the paper, not even caring about the dice, “yeah… like that then you can roll for two more.”

“Two more?”

“Yeah two more.”

“Why only two?”

  
“Because two is enough.”

“It isn’t enough,” Finn takes the two dices and shakes it with his other hand, he looks at the wooden floor, not looking at Sean, like he’s  _ scared _ , “can’t be enough.”

Sean’s eyes drifts to his face, “what do you mean?” He says, the two dice land just near him, a five and a four, Finn got a captain and a crew. Sean takes the dice and places it on top of the paper. It’s been a while since he played this game, he thinks they’re playing this game wrong. They might have to start over again.

But it doesn't matter with this lingering silence between them.

“I don’t know it’s just that… guess I just want more fucking turns,” Finn chuckles, it’s forced, the both of them can tell. They’re doing this dance again. Making a joke to deflect and to change the topic, to lift up the mood just a little bit It’s better than the lingering silence. 

But still…

“I don’t think we’re playing this right,” Sean says, taking his eyes off Finn, taking the dice and scribbling out the little scoreboard in the top page of his page, he can’t afford to waste paper, “I think we’re going to have start again.”

Finn nods, he’s shifted, changed. He stopped the thing that he was trying to tell Sean, disguising it under a simple conversation. He hates it. Why can’t he just  _ fucking  _ say it out loud. Say it in front of him. 

He hates it. He hates him.

“So I’ll start then,” Finn says, looking up straight to his eyes. Blue eyes lingering on Sean’s neck, slowly creeping up into his very own brown eyes, soft and warm like honey meeting the very ocean itself. It’s a quiet sort of terrifying, jumping into the unknown only through stares.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 14, 2016, 12:12 PM_ **

He pretends that he doesn’t see the sort of stares, the Stolen glances that he sees from Finn. He can pretend that he doesn’t see it, he can handle it. He can pretend that he’s busy riding the sheets of paper, to fix up the dice or to take just a bit longer to roll the dice.

  
  
  
  
  


**_December 14, 2016, 1:23 PM_ **

He exhales. Finn got up and left thirty minutes ago. He doesn’t know where he is, leaving him all alone in the middle of nowhere. Sean can’t stand this stillness, so much room for his thoughts to echo out loud. 

It’s hard to shut down now he misses the little things. How he misses the mundane things that he took for granted. How he misses  _ home _ . How him and Finn are always shifting, changing,  _ unpredictable _ . Going from strangers to acting like friends that hangs out during lunch, sitting at the cafeteria tables then going back to nobody’s.

It’s loud inside his head. 

He needs this sense of comfort. The longing for  _ human touch, _ the sort of warmth. Holding his own hand isn’t enough. It’ll never be enough, he shouldn’t be feeling this, it’s only the afternoon. It’s like he’s putting a schedule on his longing, his his feelings.

Only fall apart and let it out through tiny conversations in the middle of the night.

“You okay?” Finn asks, standing in front of him. He hasn’t noticed that he walked into far living room. 

“Just,” he clears his throat, “j-just thinking.”

“We’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Okay.” 

No niceties, like they’re mere strangers.  _ He hates it. _ He wants warmth, he wants to fall apart for just a bit. To hold onto someone, he used to do it with Lyla, her taking care of his little panic attacks. They act like siblings, a sister that he never had.

But she’s not here.

And he  _ needs  _ someone.

But Finn can’t tell.

So he walks away.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 14, 2016, 1:43 PM_ **

He’s fine.

He’s picked up the pieces and shitly glued it all back together.

  
  
  
  


**_December 14, 2016, 5:23 PM_ **

He’s in the room that he’s sharing with Finn, flipping through his sketchbooks and trying to reign in the memories and feelings when he was drawing. Hopelessness and the jealousy after the little pirate sketches that he made, wanting Daniel’s powers, trying to bring the powers to him through his very own will while smoking in the middle of the night outside. 

_ He still remembers how hard he tries to make the stone rise from the ground. _

He hears the front door open, feeling the shift of the air grow colder for just a second. Sean stares at the closed door, hearing them talk.

_ “I’m back.” _

_ “I was waiting for you, Jesus.” _

_ “What?” _

_ “Just wanted to see my uncle, the fuck is up with that.” _

It sounds so… casual, almost like a grown son talking to his Dad. Finn sounds a bit like a kid, somehow excited and happy to see him. He might be faking it, just an act. But it makes him miss the callous conversations with his Dad, the one that easily breezes through while they’re doing something else.

He goes back to the very beginning of his sketchbook and starts to flip through the pages again, but this time letting the time between stretch for just a bit longer.

Even if it’s just a mere second longer.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 14, 2016, 7:23 PM_ **

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, the dinner table is too small, and so is the seat. The light flickers above them while Jason places a bowl of store-bought curry onto the table. The smell wafts through him and it smells like the shitty curry that his school sells that probably gives you food poisoning.

He looks over to Finn. He looks just as uncomfortable, but he’s doing a good job of hiding it.

Jason sits down onto his seat, just across Sean, “dig in, it’s not much but it’s all I’ve got, I’m sure the rice I gave you is enough.”

Sean stares at the rice on his plate, it looks so hard and rough, “it’s enough, thank you for everything.”

Jason chuckles, “don’t thank me! So, tell me about this festival of yours.”

Sean looks at Finn, he clears his throat, taking a serving of the curry, “it’s just fifty miles away, called…  _ ‘tribesman” _ .”

“I can drive you there—“

“Walking is part of the festival itself,” Sean says, breaking the rough rice with his spoon, “but thank you for the offer.”

“Have you heard of the festival before?” Finn cuts in,  _ thank god, “ _ you should come next year, invites are fucking hard to get though, they’re kind of picky.”

“I don’t think it’s my scene,” he says, glancing at Sean for just a moment, Sean takes a bite of his food, “but you have fun, please.” 

“Oh come on!” Finn says, Sean watches his eyes begin to light up, “weren’t you like travelling everywhere? Where’s the old you?”

“Those days are over,” Sean’s looks at the both of them, talking like son and Father, “I’m an old man Finn, it’s too tiring for me.”

“Don’t blame me when you cry when we leave.”

“I’m sure I won’t.”

Sean nibbles on the food, keeping quiet while he looks at Finn. For just a moment, for just a split second. He sees some sort of  _ fire _ inside Finn’s eyes, an amalgamation of an inferno while Finn looks at Jason. But it quickly dissipates, choking on the lack of air as he smiles sweetly.

It’s strange.

The silence in the table is somehow unsettling, eerie and uncomfortable. Sean stays quiet, hoping that Finn will somehow find a way to move through this unsettling silence that sits in front of him. The food is starting to get cold. He doesn’t feel that hungry anymore, curry slowly starting to taste bland on his tongue.

“So how did you two meet?” Jason says. He drops it quick on them, extinguishing the unsettling stillness that suffocates the dinner table. They look at each for a moment, Sean puts his fork on top of his plate.

“I was lost at the border of Seattle,” Sean says, “I said I was making my way to the festival, he saved me.” He gently taps against the table, it’s a lie that’s fed with altered truths, hopefully it’s enough for Jason to believe.

“He was shaking like a dog,” Finn chuckles.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 14, 2016, 11:23 PM_ **

“What the fuck is a tribesman?”

“Shut up.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 15, 2016, 2:23 AM_ **

He hears rustling, groaning. Sean slowly sits up from his bed, eyes adjusting to the darkness. He can make out the outline of Finn on the floor, seeing him twist and turning, like he’s trying his best to run away something from his dream.

_ A nightmare? _

Sean slowly gets off the bed, kneeling besides Finn, hands slowly moving towards his body. He shakes him gently, not wanting to startle him. Is this what he’s supposed to be doing? Or is he just supposed to let him drown inside his nightmare?

Finn’s skin starts to feel warm, fire burning inside his body, “Finn?” Sean whispers, like he’s  _ scared  _ that if he says it loud enough, he’ll accidentally shatter such a fragile piece, “Finn, wake up.”

The fire is starting to burn him, he lets go, seeing Finn quickly sitting up, gasping for air like he just almost  _ drowned _ . Chest quickly rising and falling. Finn looks so  _ scared _ , confused and so vulnerable. Just a base glued back together.

“Finn—l

“Let go of me.”

“I did. I just… I just saw you having a nightmare and I thought—“

_And he_ _thought what?_

_ He’s so fucking stupid. _

“Move away from me.”

He does, shuffling away from him. Watching Finn move his hand through his hair, bringing his legs close to him. He feels so  _ fucking  _ helpless watching Finn like this, he hates it. He never saw him like this.

“Are you alright? I-if you want to talk about it then—”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? cause—“

“I said I’m fine!” Finn says, voice booming, filling up the room, drowning the both of them with dust that’ll spark and burn up like an inferno where it’ll burn down the whole house. He can see it in Finn’s eyes. The fury, the sort of  _ anger.  _

But it’s starting to die down, dwindling. That’s the worse part. 

“Y-you don’t know anything about me,” he says, quieter, softer, sadder, “so just leave me alone.”

“I—“

“Go!”

And Sean slowly stands up, moving back to his bed and going under the covers. The fire, the ashes and the dust is suffocating the both of them.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 15, 2016, 9:12 AM_ **

They’re back to pretending, to pretending that last night never happened and they’re stepping on fragile ground. Sean hates it. He wants to go back to what they were just a day ago. Finn is going so far as to create distance between them.

Even though this little house they’re almost always in the same room as each other, Finn  _ somehow _ always manages to create space between them.

And he hates it.

He hates him.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 15, 2016, 9:13 AM_ **

“You already ate Max?”

“I already did, thank you.”

“Finn?”

“Not hungry.”

“There’s some leftovers from last night in the fridge, I’ll be in the backyard if you need anything.”

_ Thud, thud, thud. _

Jason’s boots are so heavy and bulky. Sean watches him walk out of the window, taking the axe with him outside. The door slams shut, and they’re left with this stillness that’s between them. Sean pretends to draw on his sketchbook laying on the touch, he’s finding it hard to draw lately.

While Finn is on the other end of the house, sitting besides the door while he pretends to read some bullshit book about gardening. He hates this little game that they’re playing, easily breakable, it could fall apart under its own weight.

They’re suffocating each other in this silence, filling up the both of their lungs with sentences that they want to say, to puke out into the open. But it’s trapped, and Sean feels like he can’t breathe.

“Finn--”

”Don’t.”

Sean puts down his sketchbook. He sits up slowly, looking at Finn still reading that useless book. He knows he isn't reading. He can tell. It's just another distraction, another barrier between them. Always creating distance, walls.

But Sean wants them down.

”I’m sorry, ” Sean says softly, easing his words slowly, ”for last night.”

”You don't have to apologise for anything  _ brother _ , ” Finn callously says, trying to play it off, ”just… A bad dream, that's all.”

_ Just a bad dream.  _

”Okay, ” Sean sighs, looking at Finn. They lock eyes for just a moment, Finn glancing at Sean with tired eyes. It stops, Finn goes back to reading.

_ Okay _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 15, 2016, 12:43 PM_ **

He's learned a few things about Jason within this past hour as him and Finn banger in the kitchen making lunch for the three of them. Sean notices the little things when he looks up every once in a while, seeing those gentle, soft smiles when Finn cracks a joke.

It's like they haven't seen each other in a long time. Finally reuniting after all these years. Sean can tell that Jason hasn't seen Inn in a long time, always wanting to stretch out the conversations and forcing things just a bit too much. 

Jason laughs too much, the types of laughs that need your whole chest, the ones that are bright and bubbly. Crinkling your eyes as he laughs again at Finn’s jokes. He’s also one of Finn’s favourite uncles, finding it out through their banter just five minutes.

He's also used to be a lumberjack, knows how to stitch (fixed his ex’s dress once), knows how to play the guitar and is a dropout. Now he spends the rest of his life in the middle of nowhere, living off selling vegetables that he sells weekly in the market.

_ ”Guess I just like it out here,”  _ he said,  _ ”not many people here.”  _

And it's weird how he can survive the silence, the feeling of isolation in this area. Nothing but just grass and cows for miles and miles. Sean couldn't handle that, he'll go insane. No one can survive out here, all alone, they'll go mad and die.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 15, 2016, 12:48 PM_ **

Sean shifts in his seat, staring at the floorboards that creak underneath his legs. He can see something so small, it’s  _ dried blood,  _ just underneath the legs of the table. He quickly looks up, looking at Finn who’s chewing on the piece of bread, dipping into the chicken soup.

“How do you not go insane out here,” Sean says, “out here, all on your own?”

Jason chuckles, staring at Sean so  _ intently, _ “you keep yourself busy. Not that hard.” He gives him a simple smile that quickly dissipates, Sean doesn’t like it. 

Something doesn’t feel  _ right. _

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 15, 2016, 1:12 PM_ **

He wants to ask Finn what Jason was like. He wants to ask how he was like when he was a kid, was he a  _ ‘cool uncle’ _ ?, or was he the drunk one? Was he the favourite uncle? Would he always dress funny during Halloween?

He shouldn’t care. He knows that. They’re only staying for three days, but this is Sean. Getting attached, always wanting just a bit more than he can get. He will probably forget about it if he asks, but he’ll try.

_ He wants to know. _

Because he’s slowly knowing Finn who he is without wanting to. Now he can’t turn back. But Sean keeps noticing the little moments when there’s a pause, during their conversations when there’s this glitter of annoyance, a sort of  _ inferno  _ that quickly burns and dies down.

He doesn’t know what it is. It quickly dwindles away  _ every time.  _ That burning fire. That inferno. It  _ always  _ dissipates.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 15, 2016, 3:12 PM_ **

Sean decided to do his laundry out of pure boredom outside, just his five clothes and five shirts and five underwear sitting in a tub full of laundry detergent as he scrubs it hard, sitting on the steps while he heavily breathes. 

Having a machine is so  _ much  _ easier, he’s having to scrub every dirt in his clothes. Back then all he had to do ss turn a few knobs and a random detergent and that’s it. Now he has to scrub hard, it’s weird how he hasn’t realised it before. 

He hears footsteps behind him.

“Laundry?”

“I… have nothing else to do Finn,” he says, wiping the seat off his forehead with his arm, the bubbles fall to the grass, sticking to the dirt beneath and making a dirty mess beneath his feet, “I-I can do yours if you like.”

“No that’s… it’s fine,” he sits next to Sean on the stage, “I already did mine.”

Sean sighs, squinting to see if the colours are mixing, if the blues are fading away in his clothes or if everything else is slowly turning red. He’s focused on his clothes even though it shouldn’t matter. What’ll happen if the colours merge or the red sticks to everything? He’ll still wear it anyway.

The atmosphere from this morning somehow still carries itself all the way out here, he can tell that Finn’s trying to break it down, tear it all until nothing left but rumble. But can they do that. Is it possible?

“Max…” he says, differently this time, softer, gentler, likes he’s crying out. 

“If it’s about this morning I just want to—“

“It’s not about this morning.”

“Then what is it about?” Sean replies, momentarily stopping with his laundry, shifting his position so he can look at Finn. They’re staring at each other. They’re close to each other. He hates this tension. Waiting for someone to make the move.

“I don’t know,” Finn says. This feels strange, how Finn looks at his lips, like he’s waiting, just stopping short and he’s waiting. Sean doesn’t know what to do, he feels so  _ strange  _ inside, like his insides are  _ fluttering,  _ warm. 

_ I don’t know _

It keeps repeating inside his mind over and over again. The words he said stuck to him.

“What are you doing?” Sean asks softly, almost like a whisper. It’s quiet. He hates the silent pauses in between. A sudden gust of wind blows past, taking away the bubbles off the ground, lifting it up and carrying it away.

“I don’t know,” Finn replies, he stops looking at his lips, instead looking at the ground in front of him, “maybe I’m waiting for a bad decision to happen.”

Finn stands up slowly, like he doesn’t want to leave and he wants to stay. As soon as the footsteps slowly becomes faint, he realises he’s alone with the laundry he doesn’t even want to do anymore.

_ Because he left _

_ And something in him wants him to go back. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 15, 2016, 9:23 PM_ **

“You hungry Sean?”

“I need to get an early sleep, you can eat without me.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 16, 2016,2:12 AM_ **

He hears something out of the room. His eyes slowly flutters, the heaviness of sleep still on him, weighing him down, forcing him to slowly sit up. Sean hears voices, Finn and Jason talking in hushed voices, like they’re talking with secrets. Why are they up so late? He remembers saying he’s not hungry, going straight to bed because he can't handle the awkward atmosphere at the table. The forced conversations, the weak smiles, the uncomfortable shifting.

It’s too much for him.

Sean slowly stands up, eyes adjusting to the pitch black in the rooms, light pooling in underneath the door. The conversation slowly gets clearer, he can make out words. He can hear  _ Sean, can’t, please _ . His breathing starts to get louder inside his ears, and the silence inside the room is starting to buzz. He hates this, he feels trapped, not wanting to get outside and to feel like he’s intruding onto something, but also not being able to handle this silence.

He takes a short step.

His breath hitches as he hovers his hand over the door handle. This isn’t sneaking out in the middle of the night, listening for any footsteps in the hallway before he can scurry off into the night and hang out at the park with Lyla and the gang.

But it  _ doesn’t  _ feel like that, it’s different. Like the sort of feeling that something feels so  _ wrong _ .

_ “He’s wanted, Finn!” _

_ “What the fuck is wrong with you! He’s not like that.” _

The door swings open. It feels like those stupid horror movies that they watch in the couch back at home. When the door swings open, and the villain is right there in front of him, with a blood machete in his hand as he sinisterly smiles.

But he doesn’t smile, he’s standing in the living room with a candle in his hand. That doesn’t matter, the terrifying gaze towards Sean does. The one that’s filled with hatred, fury and anger. The type that the stupid teacher  _ Mr. Rowley _ gives him from time to time, staring at his skin like he’s  _ dangerous. _

“Finn…” he says slowly, because he’s  _ scared  _ to move. This is it. This is the end for him. Jason will call the cops. He’ll go to jail. His whole plan will fail. Daniel will go to foster care. He will  _ never  _ see him again.

It’s terrifying watching your whole life slowly crumble in front of you.

Jason takes a step in front of him, dropping the gaze to the floor, softening his face, “I already called the cops.”

_ This is it _

“What about my little brother?” He says, voice breaking, he’s breaking apart at the seams.

“Then you shouldn’t have killed that  _ cop _ .”

“I didn’t kill him!” He sobs, wiping the tears away with his thumb, “I don’t know what happened.”

Finn moves towards Sean, “you’re not going to jail, fuck that. Grab your stuff, we’re leaving.”

“He’s illegal!”

“He’s fucking not!” Finn yells at him, he can see the same inferno he’s seen before, what is he doing? “Don’t  _ ever _ call him that.”

Jason moves closer to him, using his free hand to pull Sean close to him, lifting him up to the air. There’s that smile, that  _ sick  _ smile he sees. He’s enjoying this, watching Sean go to jail. He feels his legs slowly crumble away as he feels the wall behind him, Jason pressing him against it.

He’s hopeless, he can feel the heat from the candle, flames almost licking away at his skin.

“I only gave you  _ mercy,  _ for a day kid, that’s all I gave you. Now, you’re gonna stay here and be a good boy and wait for the cop to show up,” he feels a punch in his chest, the pain echoing inside him, his vision goes blurry, “got it?”

He can’t answer. He doesn’t know what to say in response. He coughs out blood, his insides twisting and turning with pain. It hurts. It really hurts. He wants to go home. Back to Seattle. Back to his room. 

_ He’s just a kid _

Sean suddenly falls to the ground. The pressure of him is gone as he wheezes for air, both knees and hand on the floor. Voices are overlapping, he hears groaning, cursing. He bites his lip, slowly standing up, pain radiating throughout his body.

He leans against the wall for support, looking at the ground in front of him. Sean can see Finn on top of Jason, lying on the ground, helpless, screaming for help. And that  _ inferno _ , that blazing fury of anger is there in his eyes. Blow after blow, punch after punch. It’s there, like he wants to  _ kill  _ him, putting  _ every  _ breath, every sweat to in each blow.

It’s terrifying.

“Finn get off him!”

He doesn’t get off, just going blow after blow. The blood grows with each punch. He wants him to stop. But it feels like his calls is falling into deaf ears.

”Finn!” He pleads, prying him off him with all his strength, he's going to kill him. It hurts to move him, stinging his chest, his shoulders.

”No! Get off me!”

”It’s Sean, ” he says softly, ”it's me.”

_ Now playing All gone (Reunion) _

He stops, staring at Sean. Then back at Jason, eyes closed, blood on his face, blood underneath him. It's like something took over Finn, someone else, like a flip of a switch and he’s someone else. He can't put out that much violence. No one can deliberately  _ punch _ someone to death. That’s not Finn.

He sees the inferno dying down in his eyes, leaving nothing behind but dust and blood, there’s a sort of shallowness, a lingering  _ nothingness  _ that’s haunting and sad in Finn’s eyes. It's all gone. Finn’s empty now, slowly filling up with that lingering feeling of  _ numbness. _ He's fragile, delicate. Finn looks like he's about to cry, breaking like brittle glass after being burned.

”You okay? You alright?” Sean says softly. He wants to hug him forever. He can see the fear in his body, shaking. He wants to hug him until Finn can piece himself back together, until he's fine. He wants to bring his face into his chest, to whisper stupid shit to make him feel just a bit better. But he can't do that, that'll break Finn even more. He knows that. It hurts him.

”Yeah, ” Finn says, ”I-I’m fine.”

There's this sudden wall of best that behind to envelop then. Sean looks behind him, watching the candle that fell behind to engulf the kitchen with fire, the wood cracking and popping, turning into black and soot. They need to leave. They need to go. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 16, 2016, 2:17 AM_ **

Everything is blurred together after that. Ushering Finn to take their stuff, to go through the back door, holding Finn’s hand tightly like he’s afraid that he’s going to disappear into thin air. He can’t point out the time of events, to pick out which things came first and which came last. But as he walks further away from the house, feeling the wall of heat on his face.

He stops, yellow and orange hues spreading across the dark sky. His skin is painted orange, his eyes reflecting the burning fire in front of him. The inferno that they created, the inferno that combusted. It’s big now. It’s only going to get bigger, it’s going to feed off the land, the grass, whatever is nearby it’ll feed upon. The inferno can’t be stopped, the fire will only spiral higher into the air, burn brighter and make darker smoke.

This is it. The sort of  _ break _ in their run is gone.

It’s bursted up into flames.

He holds Finn’s hands, knowing that he needs it right now as he feels Finn lean against him. He’s brittle right now, fragile, easily breakable. That’s fine. When the time comes, he can ask what happened back there, what produced that burning inferno in his eyes. It was  _ terrifying  _ to look at.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_December 20, 2016, 2:09 PM_ **

This is it, they’re getting out of Oregon. He sighs, leaning against the crates they’re probably gonna use as makeshift beds. 

“We did it,” Sean says softly, “we got out.”

He looks over to Finn, sitting near the open area of the cargo, staring out into the countless snowy trees and rocks and lakes that they’ve seen for millions of times. Finn’s been like this after the fire, they had to run pretty far to make sure the cop wouldn’t follow them, he still doesn’t know if he lost them truly. Sean licks his lips, there’s a question that feels like a ticking bomb, he’s saying it now, better late than never.

“You name my name isn’t Max,” Sean mumbles, “don’t you?”

He sees him nod, not mumbling a word, only staring out into wilderness. 

“You know about everything, what happened?”

He nods again.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Silence.

“Because if I said something, you would’ve seen me as someone that would look at you like you’re some sort of criminal.”

“Am I a criminal? Because it feels like it.”

“You’re not,” he says, “the world just isn’t fair to you.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ “We shouldn’t be here Finn, I don’t like this place.” _

_ He looks at him in the eye in the darkness, counting one to ten like they practised over and over again. He can hear his breathing, his own heartbeat. Sean hates this. They shouldn’t be doing this. He hates stealing. He only allowed it one time back in Seattle. _

_ But this…. This is different. _

_ “We need the money,” Finn whispers, “just trust me.” _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. disguises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUCK YES IT DIDNT TAKE TOO LONG TO WRITE THIS YESSS. 
> 
> also my tumblr is Blepbean by the way!
> 
> Kudos, comments and feedback is appreciated!

_ He played this part for about three times, and he’s not giving up.  _

_ Sean sighs, scratching his neck as he loads back into the shop. He knows what he has to do to get through this part, just hide behind the counters, sneak around David and blow for the kill as Ellie. It’s not that hard, but as his thumb becomes sweaty as he grips the controller he sighs. _

_ David got him in the head. _

_ “You suck,” Daniel mumbles, taking a hot cheeto from the bowl.  _

_ “I know, last try,” he says, looking out of the window and only seeing pitch black, Dad should be coming soon, he promised that he put Daniel to bed ages ago. He can finish this bit quickly, it won’t take long. He slowly breathes in and out, the dark living room suddenly getting flooded with brown hues and the melancholy. _

_ It takes a while, he focuses on his aiming, being more stealthy. He sneaks up behind David, taking a few seconds just to make sure that it's the final blow. The cutscene starts, and he sees Ellie being so aggressive, so violent as she stabs David with the knife, there’s so much anger and blood that they had to draw, so much detail drawn in. _

_ But that anger, that violence slowly dissipates and turns into fear as Joel comes backs in, pushing Ellie off David, whispering orders to her.  _

_ “Jesus christ,” Sean says, putting the controller to the ground, letting the soft music take over the living room, there’s this weird feeling in the air, he can’t quite put his finger on it, “you okay.” _

_ “Yeah I’m fine, I’m not a baby.” _

_ “Just don’t tell Dad.” _

_ “Got it.” _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 7th, 2017, 10:23 AM_ **

It feels weird how long they’ve put up with each other. They’re just two mere strangers, but they fit like some fucked up puzzled that melds together all ugly. It doesn’t quite work, but they fit together nicely. They have moments of awkwardness and they go back to being strangers that don’t know about each other, but then they go and become best friends the next day. 

It’s like on Christmas Day, where all they did was smoke weed all day and stare at the sky, tell what ever happened to them, friends and who they are, asked stupid questions. He remembers that day clearly, so breezy and soft, gentle like the blankets from his bed. It felt like they were just… friends, riding on a random train all the way down to the South

But they’re not in that train anymore, they got off twelve days ago. Now they’re here, in a cabin that’s somehow Finn’s (he doubts it, told him that it’s his Dad, haven’t used it in a while) sleeping on a mattress on the floor with sunlight creeping through the barricades windows, highlighting the lingering dust in the living room that they sleep in.

He hates this room, it’s cold and he finds himself shivering in the middle of the night, Finn said just a bit longer, just three more weeks until they can get out of this hellhole. He just has to trust Finn for three more weeks of this job.

_ “We need it for the money,” _ he said.

He looks over his shoulder, seeing Finn clutching the blanket that they have to share in the middle of the night. He should probably wake him up soon, they’re gonna be late for their day deliveries. But he likes looking at his face, how soft, gentle and peaceful it is. Sean chuckles, wanting to brush away the dreadlocks from his face.

He could do it, his hands are just a few centimeters away from his face.

But he shakes his head, his hand retreating. If he pushes it back, he’ll cross the boundaries of their weird relationship, it’ll shatter their fragile relationship. He will ruin them. But he can still look at him while sleeping, it isn’t crossing the boundary. 

It isn’t 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 7th, 2017, 10:34 AM_ **

“You should’ve woken me up ages ago,” Finn mumbles angrily, taking his jeans from the chair, “fuck, we’re almost late.”

“Sorry I was—“

“Just… get dressed,” he says, putting on a black hoodie, putting his hood on as he hides his dreadlocks into his hood. It’s good for their job, try to be less visible, don’t wear logos, no colours, only black. Sean notices his voice is calmer, quieter, likes he’s  _ trying  _ not to get angry at him. The pauses, the irritation in his voice. Sean hates it. It’s his fault. Finn should be angry at him.

He is.

But he’s trying not to be.

“Ok,” Sean breathes out, staring at Finn taking his belongings from the floor. Stuffing his pocket with a few joints, he’ll probably smoke them when they’re on their ‘break’, meaning doing their less busier deliveries. He takes the keys to the house, with a tiny fading Mickey Mouse keychain while slinging the duffel bag over his shoulder.

He stops moving.

Finn glances at Sean for just a moment, just for a second where, he looks up and down at Sean, staring at his hoodie that he  _ definitely  _ needs to change to a black hoodie, his face, his bed hair. But Sean can see him reigning himself back in, pulling his eyes back to the ground.

“Get dressed in five minutes man,” he mumbles, ignoring what just happened like he usually does, “I’ll be outside.”

And he walks out of the door, the door closing behind him.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 7th, 2017, 10:40 AM_ **

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t think about it, it’s fine dude, not that big of a deal.”

_ But it is _ .

Sean shouldn’t have said anything. He should’ve just kept the peace, the awkward moment that they’re getting used to. He should’ve just kept the forest, kept speaking for them, always afraid that he’s going to say something, the both of them.

But he didn’t say the wrong thing, he just made it  _ awkward _ . Sean sighs, staring out into the sky, branches sprawling out like fingers, casting weird shadows along the forest. They’re not that far until they’re at the  _ boss _ , some weird mafia drug selling business bullshit that Sean doesn’t understand, but Finn somehow does and got the both of them a job at.

“Can I ask you something, Finn?”

He slows down, putting his hands into his pocket, “shoot.”

“Why are you still with me?” He says, “you can leave, you know that, you don’t have to help me.”

_ But he wants him to be close to him. _

_ He doesn’t know why _ .

Sean looks at Finn’s back, he can’t see his face, but he’s hoping that it’s an eyeroll, like a reaction of  _ why would you even say that? _ Because he wants to hear that he wants to stay with Sean, he wants to come with him, to go down to the South to help him. He can’t handle doing it alone, he doesn’t think he can. 

His palms feel sweaty.

“I don’t know.”

_ I don’t know _

“You can leave me.”

“I know.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I know.”

“It’s just that… where the fuck am I gonna go if I leave you?” Finn says, “guess that all to it, nothing fucking special.”

Something twists inside Sean as he steps over the log. He’s only staying because he doesn’t have anywhere else to go. Maybe, Finn only cares about company, having someone around.

He doesn’t care about Sean.

He only wants someone around.

He wants to ask him, that is he only sticking around because he’s lonely? The question lingers, he almost says it as they cross a pond littered with tadpoles. 

_ Are you lonely? Finn? _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 7th, 2017, 11:12 AM_ **

Walking beside the road reminds him of the first few days after Dad died. Having to look after Daniel, tell him to keep walking, that they’re almost there, just a few more hours even though he’s lying. He doesn’t know how long until they’re at the gas station, or the toilet where Daniel always whines due to the smell.

They shouldn’t be walking on the road, he knows that. But it’s easier, getting to the outskirts of Chico will take one more hour. He’s gotten used to the walk, having done this for two weeks already. Sean’s also used to this silence, always walking behind Finn like it’s something that practised.

He doesn’t want to walk behind him. He wants to walk beside him. To talk to him. He wants to look at him. 

“Sean,” he says, letting his name roll out of his tongue, he hasn’t heard his name roll out of his mouth much. It’s weird hearing him call his name. Not Max.  _ Sean. _ The wanted Mexican teenage criminal who killed a white kid, already that’s what the newspaper says. 

Painting him as a monster, a criminal. Using his name for attention, a headline, more money for their pockets. People are so curious towards wanted people.

“Yeah?” He replies.

“Don’t fucking say anything to him like last time when we get there—“

“I know, I know. It’s just that he—“

“Deserved it, no shit,” he says, sighing, “wanted to punch his head in, believe me dude. But it’s just three weeks.”

He doesn’t think he can handle anymore.

“Fine.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 7th, 2017, 11:12 AM_ **

He’s memorised the routine.

Always get here before 11:30. Always look neat and presentable. Don’t stare at awe of the pretty rich house, three stories high with a pool that probably lights up in the middle of the night. Don’t look at the guards in suits, probably bolstering a gun as they let the both of them in. It’s a mansion, a house built upon the suffering of drugs, a sick parasite that feeds into the money of the neighbourhood.

And they’re only contributing to it. 

They have to do what they have to do.

The lawn smells so fresh, so clean with the sprinklers keeping them nourished. He hates lawns like these, rich people only flaunting their stupid money. Sean fries not to look anywhere else, only front like he practises. He follows Finn inside, one of the guards opening the door for them. 

Rich mahogany tables. Weird fucking minimalistic art hanging on the walls. Couches that probably cost a fortune. A bear for a rug, one of ones that’s flattened. He smells whiskey, the type that smells so strong, it suffocated the whole house, along with the smell of sweat, sex and cigarettes.

He wants to tear it all down. Who knew what people could do with their daddy’s money. 

“Finn!” Mason, their sort of ‘boss’ that kinda owns the place but only really looks after it (apparently an assistant, helps with delivery schedules, at least that’s what Finn told him, “what’s up man.”

“Nothing much just you know the usual,” Finn focuses out, his smile is so tense. Mason chuckles, rubbing his hands together as he takes his notebook from his pocket.

“Now, you have a few deliveries. Ten actually, just the outskirts of the city,” he rummages through his pockets until he finds a pencil, he flicks through the pages, Sean stares at his face. He looks so  _ punchable _ , you’re usually a white tattooed bald man, only friendly when he needs to, “the supplies are on the back, along with the map. Don’t do anything stupid and you should be fine, the police are patrolling mostly in the centre so you two should be fine. Sounds good?”

“Yeah, sounds awesome.”

“Alrighty then, get the fuck out then,” Mason jokes, Sean forces out a laugh, he slots in a seething burning quiet anger as he walks with Finn.

They walk through the kitchen. Past the hallway and the expensive yet worthless fragile vases made of gold prompt up high on white pillars. Sean wonders if he could just let one _ ‘accidentally’  _ fall.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 7th, 2017, 11:46 AM_ **

He’s always been bad at controlling his temper. He would’ve decked Mason if he could. Sean’s always been in fights, in punch ons where the people on the oval would surround them, rooting and cheering, placing bets on who would get knocked out first. He remembers coming home with a black eye and a bruised fist. He expected him being grounded, no TV for a month, only study.

But his Dad sat him down, laughed at him and said something about having to work on his punches.

“I should’ve punched him then,” Sean says, scribbling a sketch on his book, he’s been slowly getting it back, being able to draw, “i really should’ve—“

“That weird laugh was enough. Don’t go any future otherwise it’s gonna bite you back, believe me.”

Sean shifts his position on the log, watching Finn count all drugs, all the weed and shrooms inside the bag. He wants to throw them all away, throw it all down the cliff, no one would know, no one gets hurt, no one is addicted and no families are broken.

But he’ll probably end dead the next day.

“He’s so short he won’t do anything.”

Finn chuckles, “he’s fast, he’ll knock you down like a twig. But seriously, don’t do nothin’ to him. He’s the reason why we have a job, don’t piss him off  _ please.” _

“He threatened to call the cops and called me a—“

“ _ Sweetie _ , look,” he says, Sean hasn’t heard him say  _ sweetie  _ before, he likes how he says it, how it rolls of his tongue, so smoothly, “I’ve known him through my friends, there’s like a weird interconnecting web to all of this bullshit. Including the workers working on the weed farms over on Humboldt all the way to the fucking Little cocain farms in the south..”

“Maybe we should’ve just worked at one of those weed farms.”

Finn stays silent for a few moments,  _ shit,  _ “I-I don’t mean to sound ungrateful it’s just that—“

“They’ll rip you off at weed farms,” he says, looking at the map, not looking at Sean, “I-it’s not that really worthed,” his eyes drifting down to the ground, turning his body away from him. It’s like he’s uncomfortable, maybe he said something he shouldn’t have again?

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 7th, 2017, 12:14 PM_ **

Sean hops on his cheap, stupid bikes that squeak every fifty metres. 

He pushes into the pedal, shifting on the leather seat that’s tearing apart, stitches showing, the insides showing like an ugly secret. It’s better than nothing, walking would be slower, more dangerous. No one would suspect two boys wearing hoodies, riding around the outskirts of Chico city would be up to anything.

He pushes himself just a bit further, wanting to catch up to Finn, to ride next to him. It’s hard though, with the bumpy roads and potholes filled with muddy water from yesterday’s storm.

“Hood up,” Finn says. They’re getting closer to the outskirts, just twenty more minutes. 

Sean feels like he’s out of shape, he doesn’t ride much, but he does run a lot, it’s basically the same thing right? He’s struggling to try to ride next to Finn, his breathing getting shorter and unsteady, his lungs are starting to hurt. He coughs into his sleeve, it’s chesty and disgusting.

“You okay back there?”

“Guess I’m just not as fit as I used to be,” Sean replies. He catches up to Finn just barely, not quiet next to him, just slightly behind him.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Sean chuckles. He looks ahead, only seeing trees. He’s tired of seeing forest everywhere, just trees stretching for miles. It’s the only thing he saw back when they were on the train, only talking to each other when they had to, trying to avoid each other, creating distance between them.

There’s no distance between them now. They’re close now. Much closer. There are just teenage boys going for a bike ride, one only being a wanted criminal. But he can let himself pretend that he’s back at Seattle as he closes his eyes, feeling the wind against his body. He can pretend that he’s riding around the neighbourhood, down the hill on a skateboard, riding towards the skatepark as Lyla and gang wait for him like they usually do.

“It feels good huh,” Finn says. Sean opens his eyes, taking just a few seconds to get used to reality, the lighting. There’s trees here. Not a suburb. It’s not Seattle. This isn’t home.

“It does. I uh… I used to ride back to Seattle.”

“With a shitty bike?”

“No, god no,” Sean smiles, “skateboard actually. It was a birthday gift from my Dad.”

“You’re lucky, my Dad will probably just give me ten bucks and call it a day,” he says. He says it lightheartedly, not to be taken seriously. It’s sorta a joke, ones that you say about the shitty experiences. But it worries him a little bit. Sean shouldn’t say anything about it. It’ll ruin this little moment that they have.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, the next time I get my pay. I’ll treat you then.”

“You don’t even know when my birthday is.”

“Then my next pay day will be your birthday.”

  
  
  
  


**_January 7th, 2017, 12:36 PM_ **

They always have this sort of ‘system’ during deliveries. Sean is always standing behind Finn. Always let him do the talking. Pretend that they’re both family friends, dropping by to drop something off. They make it up on the spot, could be a bunch of clothes that they left behind, wrapped up in a gift bag from an expensive cologne shop or some shit.

Sean slows down, getting off the bike as he walks it to the house that they’re delivering to, “I don’t like this neighbourhood,” Sean mumbles, staring at the houses, the potholes on the ground, the people looking at them.

“We’ll make this quick, don’t worry,” Finn says, getting off his bike, “hold my bike, stand close to me.”

Finn knocks on the door, Sean looks at the windows. All closed blinds. He can’t hear anything inside. It reminds him of one of their deliveries last week. Knocked on the door, the man that answered was clearly high, yelled at them and went crazy.

He holds the both of their bikes as Finn takes out one of the weeds from his duffel bag. Sean hears footsteps, someone talking on the phone. A man in a suit answers, probably in his twenties, he looks young, fixing his tie as he probably gets ready for an interview in the city. 

He’s seen many people during the deliveries. Before he expected that most of them looked terrible, frail, a weird creep depending on a drug to feel something. But he’s wrong, he’s seen many people during deliveries.

The young mum who holds a baby on her hand, looking so exhausted as she pays them.

A teenage boy who looks happy, his smile slowly breaking as he closes the door behind them.

The hippie couple waving goodbye as they ride out of the street.

But he hasn’t seen  _ him  _ before. Bags under his eyes, so exhausted. Probably only catching a few hours of sleep, staying up all night to call companies for work, filling out resumes, then  _ trying _ to save an already failing online relationship halfway through the country.

_ Using drugs just to relax and ease himself _

“Hey babe, I’ll call you back in a second,” he hangs up on his phone, stuffing it into his pocket.

“Left this at your house,” Finn says, “you have to stop staying over at our house Jesus, stop getting drunk at mine.”

The man chuckles, “yeah sure,” he reaches into his pockets, giving Finn the cash, “thanks by the way.”

Finn counts through the money, it should be fifty bucks, “I’ll shout at you next time when I come over at yours. Have a good day dude.”

He smiles, closing the door. He can hear the muffled speaking through the walls, something along the lines of a trip. Sean hands Finn his bike, “can’t believe how fucking smooth you are.”

“Guess my acting classes that I took wasn’t completely worthless.”

  
  
  
  
  


**_January 7th, 2017, 11:48 PM_ **

“Did you have to do any plays Finn?”

“Yeah,  _ Romeo and Juliet _ .”

“A classic, not bad.”

“Had to play one of the guards, or was it the guy that calls someone a prince of cats—“

“Mercutio?”

“Yeah! That fucking guy. Shit was horrible, Juliet puked on stage, one of the props almost fell onto the audience. But… it was fun to die on stage. Did it so dramatically, one of the highlights I must say. After that I just smoked a bong with my friends.”

“Your usual Romeo and Juliet play.”

“Maybe we should do a play.”

“You’ll be my Juliet to my Romeo?”

“Fuck off.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 7th, 2017, 11:49 PM_ **

_ You’ll be my Juliet to my Romeo _

Juliet reached too far. Loved someone too much. She flew to the sun too close. She’s stupid, she loved someone too much, chased after someone without knowing the consequences, only doing it for herself and no one else. They thought they were gonna be happy. They were gonna have their  _ stupid  _ cliche fucking romance, happy ever after story.

Until they died. Just two stupid reckless lovers only thinking with their hearts, now with their heads. Crazed by a stupid crush. She’s  _ 14 _ , for fucks sake. 

He wonders if they’ll end up like that. Being reckless and stupid and only thinking about themselves, chasing stupid feelings and not thinking ahead and about others. It can’t happen, they don’t love each other, they’re not lovers. They’re just strangers crossing the bounds over to friends. Or are they strangers pretending to be friends, making it easier to be around each other.

They can’t be Romeo and Juliet.

It’s stupid

_ Fuck off _

He wanted to say something else.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 7th, 2017, 2:32 PM_ **

He wishes he had his phone still with him. He threw it away after using it over at the motel ages ago. One final phone call over at the Reynolds. He wants to talk to him, he misses her voice, the way that he snickers it’s sometimes snorts is so funny. He should get a burner phone. Brody said he can get one on the road. But where can he get one? He misses her. He wants to talk to her.

Even if it’s about her day.

Sean looks up at Finn, setting the cheap ramen that they’ve been living on for the past few weeks on the ground. He should ask him now, there's no one here behind an abandoned repair shop. No one will find them here. But they have to get up soon for the final stretches of their deliveries, the ones that he hates, too many people, too much of a risk to get caught.

Maybe he can wear a mask, the ones that you wear when you’re sick to hide himself better.

“Hey Finn,” he asks, chewing on his lower lip.

“Mm?”

“You know where to get a burner? I just wanna make a phone call—“

“I’ll get you one, before we leave. Not now though, no fucking way,” he slurs on his ramen, spicy chicken, how he likes it, Sean can’t understand how he can stomach that shit, “you can still get tracked down with it.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, still have to pay me back from that burger.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 7th, 2017, 5:21 PM_ **

One of their only customers that buys everyday is the one that they both save for last. Lives in an apartment complex where they have to take the stairs, which always scared Sean. One slip up, if  _ someone  _ sees his face. It’s over. It’s something that he has to live with, having to live with the fear of getting caught. The medical mask that they just bought an hour ago will help, but he can still get caught with his eyes. 

They reach the top floor, moving out of the way for one of the tenants. The apartment complex itself doesn’t look too bad, one of those first homes that Sean probably could’ve gotten if his life didn’t go to shut. He would’ve invited all his friends over. Decorate the walls with his shitty sketches, maybe some paintings if we gets good enough at Art school. It’ll be his home, not much. But it’s his, made it all with his blood, sweat and tears.

But it’s useless dreaming about things that he can’t have.

He fixes his mask, following Finn as he knocks on the door. Number  _ 096 _ , three numbers made out iron that’s rusting. The door swings open, and Charlotte (Got her name after a week when she was drunk once) opens the door, leaning on the door frame. She looks like she’s going out somewhere, soft light brown skin, short shorts jeans with a pair of vans, tucked in white button up T-shirt, dangling cross earrings with her glammed up face with eyeliner.

If Lyla was here, she would be asking her  _ everything  _ about how she did her makeup.

“It’s the two musketeers,” she says, eyeing the both of them, “don’t do the weird friend bullshit Finn.”

Finn puts up his hands in defence.

“Are you going somewhere?” Finn asks.

“What do you think?”

“No?”

“Just felt like dressing up to be honest, just to make myself feel better just a bit in this shirt town.”

“Why?” Sean butts in, staring at the living room, just a tiny glimpse of her apartment. It looks cluttered, messy. Clothes on the floor with dishes piling high on the coffee table with the TV open, he can hear  _ Big Bang Theory  _ on, hearing Leonard whine about Sheldon yet again.

“Sean she’s joking she’s not actually staying inside to—“

“No, I'm  _ actually  _ staying inside dressed up. Where the fuck would I go?”

“LA?” Sean replies.

“Too far, tried the drive once, ended up puking on the side of the road, can’t drive too long,” she sighs, “anyway, hand me the goodies.”

Finn reaches into his duffel bag, handing her the bag, “here.”

“Thanks,” she says, looking into the bag, mumbling something under breath, probably counting. She reaches into her pockets, handing Finn the paper bills all scrunched up.

“Manners, come on,” Finn mumbles, counting the bills.

“Suck my dick.”

She closes the door in front of them.

Finn sighs, pocketing the money. Sean stares at the door, stretching his arms. He can hear the TV volume, go up, he recognises the episode from his binge watching the show during his slumps. Sitting ugly in his bed, 3 AM with his things littering the floor, no energy to clean or to get up to go to the bathroom. Lyla helped him with his slumps.

Is she in a slump?

Does she have anyone to help her?

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 7th, 2017, 5:44 PM_ **

“Do you know why she buys it everyday?” Sean asks, taking off his mask as he keeps one hand on the bike to keep steering.

“Probably re-sells it, look,” he pauses, looking over to Finn, “d-don’t ask that shit.”

“Why not?”

“It’ll get in the way, or maybe that’s just me. I did that shit once and tried to play morals and helped this boy, the same age as me about a few years ago. He just, I just watched him go back to the table to snort more—“

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have—“

“Just… we’re here to sell,” Finn says, not looking at him now, only looking forwards, Sean wants him to look at him in the eyes, he wants him to know that he cares because this is gonna be one of those throwaway conversations where he finds out just a bit more of Finn’s past.

“We’re not… we’re not here to help. It’s drugs and weed and shit, it’s fun, but sometimes it doesn’t get fun, it gets really bad.”

Sean opens his mouth to speak, wanting to get the word out. But what is there to say except  _ I’m sorry that it happened to you?  _ He can’t say that. He doesn’t know  _ what  _ to say, he wants to know that he cares. He does. He’s listening. We all have our tiny little secrets in our life that he accidentally slips into our little conversations. He wants to say something that will help. To ease the pain just a little bit, the sense of  _ comfort _ .

But he can’t find it.

Just like back at the house. Just like a few weeks ago. Just like on the train. Sean is always not knowing what to say, not knowing what to whisper to make someone feel better just a little bit. He’s useless like that. Useless with his stitched lips. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 7th, 2017, 8:23 PM_ **

The radio that Finn ‘borrowed’ on the floor next to them is staticy, breaking up every minute or so. But the song that the radio plays isn’t that bad, a shifty pop song that chatter number one a few days ago. Always filled with shitty love lyrics, some guy chasing after a girl that he can’t have. People are so weird, somehow fascinated with love stories all the time.

“So if I roll a six then—“

“It’s a ship,” Sean replies, moving himself to get closer to the board, “but you have to get everything first before you can get any points.”

“Oh, got it.”

Sean watches him shaking the dice in his hand. It reminds him of the cabin with Daniel. Playing this game on their last night, sitting on the floor. It’s like what they’re doing now. it feels like they’re just friends, they’ve known each other.

_ Just friends _

“If you don’t mind me asking Sean,” he says, placing the die into the cardboard, “your brother, he’s fine, right?”

“He’s somewhere safe, don’t worry.”

“Then what’s your plan?”

“Leave him somewhere safe, go to Mexico,” he stares at his sketchbook, letting his chin rest on top of his knee, “go from there.”

But the truth is he doesn’t know what he's doing. He’s making it up on the spot like a shitty school presentation, thinking of ideas during down times, writing it down on his sketchbook then saying it’s dumb, crossing it out a few seconds after. He has to be sure of this. This is Daniel he’s talking about. He can’t second guess this, he can’t make this up on the spot.

He has to be sure what he’s doing. Having to make decisions that’s better for Daniel. It doesn’t matter about himself, all that matters is for Daniel to be safe. Whether he does it by himself or not. 

They fall silent for about, Sean just listening to the sound of dice clicking together the first falling with a soft  _ thud  _ onto the cardboard. But there’s this elephant in the room, the one that they’re avoiding. It's too hard to talk about it. Too awkward to talk about it. Finn doesn’t want to talk about it, wanting to stretch out how long they can last without not addressing it.

About what he did back then.

“Your turn,” Finn mumbling, “got no points, this game sucks.”

Sean forces out a chuckle so that Finn isn’t thinking about what happened at Oregon. He can still remember the heat on his face, how the flames licked his face, how the inferno ate everything and turned it into ashes. He doesn’t understand how Finn could do that. Something took over him, like a demon possessing him, bringing out the fury and fire. A dangerous combo.

He takes the dice, shaking it inside his hand. He has to ground himself every once in a while. They’re playing a game, they’re not back at that tiny house, he wasn’t staring at Finn looking so  _ terrified  _ after he punched him. 

He opens his hands, letting the dice roll.

6, 5, 3, 2, 1

He got a ship and a captain. Sean places it on the cupboard, his mind somewhere else. He shouldn’t be quiet like this. Finn will notice. Finn will pick up what he's thinking about. The atmosphere between them is awkward, trying not to step on spikes, pretending that it never  _ ever  _ happened. 

_ He’s not like that _ , he thinks,  _ he’s seen other sides of Finn _ .

Like the way he laughs, jokes around. Like the way easy to ease into, just a few conversations in and it feels like he’s a friend. Like the way he smiles. Like the way he looks so cute when eating spicy chicken ramen, telling Sean to fuck off when he calls him out on his ramen choices. 

_ He’s not like that _ .

“You okay there?” Finn asks, Sean shakes his head, pretending to be tired as he rubs his eye.

“I’m fine,” Sean says, looking at his eyes, murky blue eyes.. 

He’s playing a difficult game. The both of them. Dancing around the spikes on the floor, while Sean tries to figure out what he's feeling. This sort of  _ tightening  _ his chest when he looks at him sometimes. It’ll end badly. It’ll go horribly wrong. They’ll part ways when this is all over, they’ll  _ never  _ see each other again after this.

And Sean has to be okay with that.

  
  



	7. unmasking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It only took two weeks omg hi I’m back with another update.
> 
> Kudos, comments and feedback I appreciated!

_ Feeling both excitement and fear stirring inside him at the same time. They’re doing this for the first time for their lives, in their backyard while Sean looks over his texts. Dad and Daniel went to get some groceries, buying them about twenty to thirty minutes if Daniel shines enough. _

_ “Where the hell did you even get this.” _

_ She sighs,taking Sean’s lighter as she lays the weed pipe in front of them, “it’s a secret I’ll never tel.” _

_ “Please tell me you didn’t—“ _

_ “Ew gross! I just bought some I didn’t fuck somebody for some weed,” she takes out the weed from her pocket, a nugget that’s looked like grass rolled up in a tiny zip lock bag. _

_ “Who?” _

_ “You know the road trip that I had to take to see my grandparents?” _

_ “Yeah you like whined about it in the group chat.” _

_ “Ok shut up, it was really traumatising. Anyway there was this really sketchy guy near the gas station that was like ‘hey I’m selling weed want some’ and I was like ‘why the fuck not’” _

_ Sean sighs, rubbing his temple. Lyla can be pretty… bold sometimes, just going in head on with no caution, no thinking. She’s always like this, not thinking of what could happen, only living and thinking of the present. It’s like what happened during last weeks party, ending up in a lot of yelling and blackmails.  _

_ Luckily it pulled through. _

_ “Lyla…” _

_ She takes out the weed, stuffing it into the pipe, “yeah?” _

_ “Did you realise how they could’ve been a fucking trafficker or some pervert?” _

_ “It turned out okay didn’t?” _

_ “You’re so stupid sometimes.” _

_ “Well,” she smiles Sean, igniting the lighter as weak flames rise from the hole, “we wouldn’t be here without me, so you're welcome Sean.” _

_ “Can’t believe our first time smoking weed is from you getting weed from a pedo.” _

_ “They weren’t a pedo!” _

_ “Okay, let me change my words. Possible a pedo.” _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 8th, 2017, 6:32 AM_ **

He woke up just a bit too early, letting his eyes get used to the soft light streaming through the boarded up windows, driving some darkness in the cabin. It’s way too cold to be up, too tired, his body not letting him get up to stand up and stretched, he’s stuck to the mattress. Sean lays there, staring at the ceiling, hands resting on top of his chest.

Breathing slowly, in and out.

He can hear Finn’s soft breathing in the silence. He expects to be in a lot of these moments, early mornings hearing Finn’s soft breathing. Just like the early morning hours of sleepover/, being the first one awake and not knowing what to do, just laying still, staring at the ceiling.

Just like how Lyla and the gang had a giant sleepover one time. He was the first one awake, just a hush over them, so quiet and so innocent, not smoking weed or doing stupid dares with spin the bottle. Sean remembers Lyla waking up a few minutes after he did.

He misses her.

A lot.

He wishes he could talk to her right now on the phone, just a simple text. If he could text her, he would write a paragraph, reaching to about a mile of a long text. No, reaching to the very moon itself. Explaining in detail about his feelings, what his experiences have been and how he misses everyone. His home, Daniel, his Dad,  _ her. _ How he had to leave behind everything again when he was  _ just  _ getting used to his life, just a teenager with his brother in the middle of nowhere with his grandparents, where he could pretend they were just visiting.

But he had to grow up too quickly, a naive teenager having to grow in about a few months to become a guardian for his brother. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 8th, 2017, 8:32 AM_ **

Everyone that he left behind haunts him like a lingering ghost, their hands trying to drag him back to  _ home _ . It’s always strong in the mornings when he just woke up and there’s moments of silence in the air. Their ghosts, it’s suffocating him, choking him.

“Hey,” Finn mumbles, a cup of coffee in his hands, watching the dream rise and curl until it dissipates in thin air. He sits on the mattress, shoulder touching Sean’s. They’re so close, yet Sean is so faraway, ghosts trying to claw him back.

“Where did you get that?”

“Oh… uh I bought some, I can make some if you want.”

He nods, he needs the warmth in his hands to drive away the cold. He needs this warmth, needs it to ground him into reality, driving away the ghosts. But as soon as Sean watches him put his cup of coffee in a mug that they found lying around somewhere before standing up, stretching his arms. He wanted him to stay, to come back.

It’s okay if he doesn’t make coffee for Sean, because being close to him is enough. That warmth is enough, the human contact is more than enough. If he could, he could ask Finn if he was still here next him, if he could lay his head on his shoulder for just a few minutes. They could stay there, it would be enough to drive out the ghosts.

He takes a mug and his thermostat from his bag, setting it on the kitchen counter as he slowly pours it into the mug. 

“Thanks,” Sean mumbles, taking the mug in his hands as Finn hands it to him, so warm in his hands, reminding him of hot summer days while they run around in the sweltering heat. Now he’s here reminiscing the summer days, needing the sort of warmth to comfort him in this cold world.

“Guess we finally woke up time huh?” He says, sitting next to him, picking up his cup of coffee as he downs it all down in one sip.

He takes a sip of the coffee, so sweet, the warmth oozing throughout his body, filling him up“I’m sorry about that by the way I just—“

“You’re still hung up about yesterday?” Finn says, “it’s fine, really. I do it all the time, no biggie.”

“It’s just that—“

_ I was watching you sleep while I was awake, you were so peaceful, eyes closed, chest slowly rising and falling. I wanted it to last much longer, stretch to thirty minutes and pretend that they’re living in a proper house and Sean was the first one to wake up, watching him sleep, waiting for him to wake up. _

**_He_ **

**_Is_ **

****

**_So_ **

****

**_S—_ **

“Sean?” Finn wave his hands in front of his eyes, “hey you were going on—“

Sean blinks a couple of times, sighing as he takes another sip of his coffee, he looks at Finn, elbow resting on his knees, staring at Sean with so much worry, “it was—it was nothing. I just sleep too long I guess.”

“Me fucking too.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 8th, 2017, 11:12 AM_ **

He knew that he would be all over the news, in headlines with bold titles attracting people in, in newspapers being sold in tunnels where people stare as they walk past, in quick news stories. All only staring at the police, pitying them so innocently while they place the wolf brothers as Mexican murders, another reason why people should strengthen the border and build the wall.

The world has such an obsession with showing them as animals.

But they’re just  _ kids. _

His hands shake, looking over his shoulder, seeing Finn still figuring out the address. The infernum is slowly building up again, wanting to turn the pews paper in his hands into dust, wanting to burn the whole town to the ground. Why can’t they just live peacefully? Why can’t they just leave alone? Why can’t they just—

“Hey uh—can you look at this real quick,” Finn waves the pierce of paper in his hands, the map in the other, “don’t think my eyes are working properly.”

He puts the newspaper in the trash before turning around, the inferno subsiding. He can’t be angry, otherwise they’ll just prove a point, “yeah sure.”

The world isn’t fair. The world is so  _ fucking  _ cruel. He lets his fingernails dig deep into his palms, the pain stinging. It’s fine, the pain will stop the anger from oozing into broken glass. He fixes his face mask that feel like it’s falling apart, staring at the people walking past.

There’s dread every time they look back at him for even just a split of a second.

“I just can’t find the address,” Finn sighs, stretching his arms as he leans against his bike, Sean glances at time, “I-I just… I don’t fucking know.”

He’s not focused on the map, just his eyes looking at Finn. Everything he hates about the world dissipates for just a moment, makes him feel like he’s normal, just with a friend out on the streets in the afternoon. Just friends. They’re just friends. People who laugh and drink and muck around with each other. He has to remind himself that.

“It’s uh,” he pauses, eyes looking back towards the map when Finn looks at him, they’re playing a little game, stealing glances, trying not to get caught so that they don’t cross the boundary, “hang on give me a second I almost have it.”

He doesn’t have it. He lied, too busy stealing glances at Finn. Wearing jeans this time, with dirty sneakers and the usual black hoodie. He hasn’t seen him wear jeans in a week. Sean doesn’t know how he picked this tiny detail up, like how his eyes crinkles when he laughs uncomfortably, or how he grins or—

_ “Did you hear about that kid over in Seattle?” _

Suddenly he feels like he’s back at the house again. Frozen. Fear suffocating himself. Not knowing what to do. Panicking. Seeing his Dad  _ dead.  _ Tears in his eyes. Picking up Daniel. He didn’t want to leave, he wanted to stay, he wanted to get Dad. But they’ll ask him what happened, they won’t believe him, all of this chaos and they’lll—

“I might have a bit of extra cash tonight,” Finn says, snapping out of it, he’s here, he’s back here, “I might be able to get pizza or a burner soon.”

He looks up. He doesn’t know if Finn noticed, maybe he’s pretending that he didn’t notice. Looking away like when someone is falling apart, pretending that someone isn’t wiping away the tears or sobbing. Sean likes that about Finn.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, “I know where the address it, just a few minutes away.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 8th, 2017, 12:21 PM_ **

Riding around in bikes reminds him of the suburbs. Not quite the same, Chico is quieter, duller. More people keeping to themselves within their apartments, with more cars driving past. If he closes his eyes, he can feel the wind on his skin, leaning into it. He can pretend that everything is just fine, that they aren’t delivering counterfeit heroin and weed to destroy people’s lives.

He can pretend that, just for mere moments that he’s with his friends, Lyla on her skateboard with her hands in the pocket of her Hawt Dawg Man hoodie, smiling as they ride down the hill, Ellery complaining about how they’re too loud, whining about how the others aren’t here yet while Sean rolls her eyes when Lyla teases him about Jenn again.

_ “No we didn’t sit together in math class.” _

_ “Yes she asked me for a pen.” _

_ “Yes she returned it to me.” _

_ “Yes she said hi to me.” _

Lyla always teases him, wanting him to go in and make a move. Saying that he’s a pussy, not making a move or asking Jenn out on a date. He’s like that, too scared and shy too ask out a high school crush. He can let that pass. It’s  _ just  _ a high school crush.

But this feeling that bubbles inside him when he opens his eyes again and sees Finn yelling at the top of his lungs, yelling some dumb bullshit.

He can’t ignore that. It’s always staring at him right in the face. Sort of taunting him sometimes, like how Daniel would stick his tongue out when he wins in smash. The feeling is always teasing him, standing in front of him, so close yet so far. He wants to chase the feeling, to go where it’ll lead him. But Sean knows they’ll go nowhere, they’ll fall apart into the nothingness if he acts on it, this terrifying feeling that both  _ terrifies _ him and  _ excites _ him.

It’ll ruin them.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 8th, 2017, 1:33 PM_ **

But he can fantasise about what would happen if he chases the feeling as he stares at Finn sigh, sitting on the grass with his hand resting on his knee prompt up. If he chases after the feeling right now, in this tiny park with a swing that looks like it’s about to fall apart.

He won’t know how to start it though, he’s just a teenager, a stupid high school virgin who’s just sixteen forced to grow up too quickly, having to know  _ everything.  _ But he doesn’t know how he’ll start it, he would be too scared and too shy, would he lean in?

_ Can  _ he even lean in?

It’ll turn ugly. It’ll turn bitter and sour like a rotting apple, worms eating it from the inside out if he goes for it. He thinks that’s how it’ll go, it’ll ruin them, even learning in for a kiss. They’ll pretend that it never happen, but it’ll suffocate them while they sit in never ending silences, dancing around the topic. They’ll avoid each other, trying to make space. Sean will hate himself, he’ll go smaller and smaller until he’s nothing more than a hollow shell of what he once was because of it. Just too curious for his own good, wanting to see how it’ll feel.

Never felt this before. Only high school crushes,  _ never  _ nothing more. This is different. Sean feels like he’s growing more distant with Finn even though we are just two meters away from him, just enjoying their tiny break even though Sean is dying. He wants to kill this feeling inside him, turn it into dust. It’s so  _ strong. _ Like a black hole, nothing ever escapes it’s grasp, not even  _ light.  _ It’ll suck them in and turn it all into mush, destroying everything that they have.

He images how Lyla would feel about this. If Lyla knew about this, she would totally  _ freak _ out. Laugh in disbelief but slowly turn serious, a quiet and soft smile on her face would form as she pulls him into a hug with a smile. Sean sighs, pulling the dead grass underneath him. If he could, he would burn this whole town to the ground, he’s slowly grown to hate this city. Too gloomy, so dull. But the poison here has taken root, the only thing to get rid of it is to burn the whole tree down.

He wants to say so many things to Finn, but it’s all lingering inside him, unsaid words haunting him inside, making him suffocate for all the things he leaves unsaid. He wants to say it out loud, let it roll off his tongue and set his whole world into chaos as if it’s bad enough already.

Hand on his legs.

Mouth parted open, wanting to say something.

“Hey Finn?” He says. Don’t overthink this. They’re just talking. Pretend that they’re far away from this city, well over the hills and where there’s only grass and the clear blue skies. Just them.

“Yeah what’s up.”

He freezes. He’s terrified, the  _ what if’s  _ already circling inside his head, always thinking ahead into the future, never living in the present, the now. The fear is gripping him, controlling him.

“Nothing, it’s nothing..”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 8th, 2017, 4:12 PM_ **

They’re always trading little pieces of themselves, showing what they want to each other, sharing secrets, slowly uncovering who they are. It’s a weird dynamic that they’ve fallen into, so strange. Their relationship is so weird, not the clear cut picture of what they should be. They’re just strangers slowly trying to know who they are.

From Finn slowly telling childhood stories.

To Sean talking about Lyla.

They turn to the left of the street, Sean’s getting tired of sitting on the hard leather seat of his bike. They’re still only thirty minutes away, a long ride away. He pedals faster, trying to ride next to Finn. Sean’s always finding himself looking, even though the city is just full of dull colours, boring buildings and dead trees.

He wonders how much people live here, wanting to leave it all behind in this tiny city.

“I used to live around here,” Finn says, he fixes the duffel bag on his shoulder. 

“Didn’t expect you to live in this shitty city.”

Finn sighs, pedalling slowly, he wants to talk to Sean longer, stretch this out for as long as possible, “I didn’t want to,” he says, voice softer, quieter, just for Sean to hear like a secret, “I had to do what I had to do.”

“Family issues?”   
  
“Sorta, kinda fucked that involved having to go to jail for a bit. After I got out… I sorta hesitated for a bit, so I lived here for a month of two trying to figure my shit out with a roommate.”

Sean looks at him, he’s shifted for just a second, before he looked up and pedalled just a bit faster, “you still talk to your roommate?”   
  
“No, I was a fucking asshole to him. If I could see him again, I would give everything in my power to see him.” 

They go silent for a bit, going left this time. Moments like these are common, they expect this. Awkward silences, not knowing what to do after they just said secrets, little pieces of themselves. Tear a bit of themselves and who they are, however painful or shocking it would be. There’s always the fear of how they’ll act when they receive that little piece.

Sean doesn’t know how to break this silence, it’ll grow until they can’t ignore it anymore, forcing them to sit through it until their delivery. He taps his thumb on the bell, “it somehow feels like I’m back in Seattle, riding around the town like this.”

Sharing little pieces of themselves, they’re so used to it that it  _ scares  _ Sean just a little bit.

“With a skateboard, right?”

“Yeah,” Sean says, “with my friends, just riding around and not giving a shit about anything. With Lyla and the gang,” he chuckles, eyes glossy, wanting to turn back time and go back where he didn’t know better, “I don’t know maybe it’s just stupid--”   
  


“It’s not stupid.”

“It’s not?”

“Used to do shit like that,” Finn says, “ride around town with a skateboard, smoke weed under the bridges with my fucking friends. That’s just three years ago, time goes so fucking fast.”

“I guess it does.”

Too fast. It goes too fast for him. Time always slips from his fingers, always trying to grasp it, just hold on to time and to slow down just a little so he can get a breather. Too fast for him to even notice, he should’ve hugged him.

He should’ve hugged him

_ He should’ve hugged him. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 8th, 2017, 6:34 PM_ **

It’s getting darker and colder outside, exhaustion slowly getting a hold of them, just wanting the last few deliveries to get done and be over with. Doesn’t matter if they’re a little bit crushed or a little bit wet, no one would care, no one would notice. They’ll be too high to even  _ care.  _

He just wants this over and done with. Kinda reminds him of the last stretches of his job, time slowly blurs together and he’s on autopilot, then he quickly snaps back into the slow drudge of reality and wanting to finish it quickly, leave the market where the lights cast an uneasy yellow hue.

They pedal to the right, they house that they need to deliver is just right there. But he feels his heart fall so quickly that he didn’t expect it, so sudden, didn’t expect it. He didn’t have enough time to act. He stops.

Flashes of blue and light cast on his skin.

“Finn?” He mumbles, fear on his voice, the police car is just got here in front of the house that they need to deliver to. The girl that buys everyday, always talking to them, she’s so sweet, so much like Finn. They’re so let of similar, they would be perfect together.

But why is there a police car in front of her apartment building?

He needs to get up there. He needs to climb up those stairs and check if she’s okay, if she’s hurt or if she’s alright. Maybe it has nothing to do with her, someone else with the building. But he to make sure if she’s alright. Because he sees himself in her just a little bit.

Just a bit lost.

But his body is always acting too slow for him, too slow to get out the bike and leave to run up those stairs, “Sean,” he says, fear on his voice, not looking at the apartment building but at the police car, “w-we should go, you’re gonna get caught.”

But he doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t.

His feet move, turning his bike around. Something’s churning in his chest,  _ guilt.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 8th, 2017, 8:21 PM_ **

“There was trouble with one of the clients,” Gavin says, “we had to go, sorry for not being able to deliver the rest.”

_ He’s not sorry. _

_ He just wanted to end as quickly as possible. _

He wants to go back. Is she okay? He shouldn’t care, she’s just a mere client. He should be caring about himself.

“It’s fine,” Mason says, getting the weed, putting it on the table, “I’ll tell the others.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 8th, 2017, 10:34 PM_ **

He’s been thinking of  _ her  _ ever since they came back. Even when Finn was talking about something, mumbling about his stupid maths teacher that he used to have to try to bring in just the normal mundane back. His mind is buzzing, concerned for her.

_ Is she okay? _

He remembers what happened before they’re eating a late dinner which consists of spicy cup noodles and cold bread and tea. They walked back to the cabin. Finn briefly mentioned the money a few minutes ago, the situation about how it might take just a little bit longer to scrape up to get to Mexico all the way safely. 

Now they’re sitting, his food going cold on the floor, just mindless staring into the unknown. He’s still thinking of  _ her,  _ worried if she’s okay. Always thinking if people that he’s are okay, including Brody.

Now it’s  _ her _ .

He doesn’t even know her name. He’s caring about a complete stranger, so weird. How he can care about many people, heart always so full, poor boy can’t keep up with it. He wonders if she’s okay, if she’s fine, if maybe that she’s fine, that. He’s just overreacting and she’s just sitting in her apartment lying on the coach watching some random soap opera—

“Hey Sean?” Finn says, sitting up, clearing his throat. Sean looks at Finn, trying to pretend that he wasn’t thinking, he’s always thinking. He’s worried and scared about her, yet Finn doesn’t even  _ care _ . He’s picked it up, choosing to pluck his feeling, cut it off with certain things if he can.

_ “Better to cut out the feeling faster,”  _ he said once,  _ “or some bullshit like that.” _

“If we meet going on like this we’re gonna have to stay here for another month.”

“You know we can’t do that. I’ll get caught you’ll get seen as someone helping a criminal—“

“I know,” Finn sighs, looking at Sean’s food, then back at the corner where they keep their money, “we only have 800 something.”

“Shouldn’t that be enough.”

“I’ve done this trip before,” Finn mumbles, head down, growing quiet, softer, “made a trip to the south and caught a couple of trains, we never went past Arizona, chewed through 200 bucks on the first two weeks.”

“But never went past Arizona?”

“Barely any trains past,” he mumbles, eyes dropping low, like he’s thinking looking back into memories, into the past that he knows he can never reach back into, “it wasn’t a good trip, we need more money I just have an idea.”

Finn clears his throat, putting his cup of noodles down, sitting up, straightening his back, “I have a fucking plan, and it’s gonna fucking work I  _ swear  _ to you.”

“Finn—“

“The money in the safe we can steal it—“

Sean chuckles, “Finn we can’t just barge in, you’re joking me.”

“I’ve done this before.”

“What the fuck do you mean you’ve done this before?” Finn what the fuck?”

It’s like he doesn’t know who  _ Finn  _ is anymore. His image who he is changing every second, shifting.

He truly doesn’t know him.

And that terrifies him. Like how he doesn’t care about the girl in the building apartment, maybe he’s not heartless, maybe he’s just—

“No,” Sean says, shaking his head as he stands up, getting his coat as he pulls it around him, “no fucking way.”

He needs to leave. He needs a smoke, he needs air. He can’t deal with this right now, too confused, like what he thought he knew about someone is right. That he’s just a normal teenager, just like him, just a little bit weird.

“I need a smoke.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 8th, 2017, 10:38 PM_ **

  
  


His chest fills with warmth as he breathes out a puff of smoke that curls into the air as it disappears. 

It’s nice that he had a few smokes left lying around, some given out by Finn. He wants to be alone right now, he doesn’t want him to come outside. He needs time to think, too confused, too worried. Smoking helps him find out, clearing his mind just a little bit, letting him settle. 

He lets the ashes fall to the ground, the fire inside dwindling as it hits the wet ground. Is this how they’ll end up? Just a wavering fire in the cold forest, they’ll break because they didn’t know how to function, not knowing how to work things out.

He sighs, looking down as he scratches the back of his neck. Sean knows they’re a bit short money, it could help, give them a head start. It’s already slowly starting to affect them, having to get extra hours, getting less food. It’s just the beginning, they’re going to get suffocated and they’ll be left with nothing in the end.

“Fuck this,” he mumbles.

He doesn’t want to steal. He’s done so much bad shit already. He doesn’t want to be a criminal. Someone who does shitty things. What would Daniel think of him? How would he look at him?

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 12th, 2017, 7:22 PM_ **

It’s been three days since they talked about the safe. They’ve avoided it like the plague the whole, the elephant in the room. Always talking around it, never even  _ suggesting it _ . It’s been three days of straight deliveries, mundane slowly settling in and he’s been grateful for that. Needing that normalcy back in his life.

It’s also been three days since the girl that lives here has ordered something.

When he saw her order inside the duffel bag he felt this weight break down on him, the weight is gone. She’s safe, she’s okay. Sean was smiling then, while he waited for Finn to come back from the gas station toilet where he would complain how nasty it was after. 

But he’s always sort of hesitant to knock on the door, knowing that she's okay is fine, maybe they could stretch their deliveries further. They’re doing them a bit quicker than usual, maybe he can leave this delivery last and do the other four, maybe—

Finn knocks on the door instead, looks at him weirdly before stepping back. The silence after the knock settles in, always so awkward.

_ “Hang on just give me a second!” _

He heard her voice, she sounds fine.

Ten seconds later she opens the door, wearing sweats and hoodie with her wear still wet. She smiles at the both of them, swinging the door open fully while she rummages through her pocket.

“I was starting to worry about you when you were buying from us,” Sean says.

She lets out a soft sigh, “I had to take care of some other things, had to quit being a drugie for a bit,” she mumbles, passing a bunch of notes to Finn  _ neatly _ this time, unlike last time.

Finn tosses her the bag, “you bought a lot of—“

“Heroine, I know. Science project.”

“Very funny,” Finn says, “don’t call us when you’re passed out on the bathtub.”

It sends an uncomfortable image inside his mind. Seeing her so still, so silent, no life in her eyes with the syringe on the floor. Her eyes full, mouth open with foam coming out of her mouth. He has to bite down on his lips to stop himself from saying anything.

She won’t take all of that in one day.

_ Right? _

He shouldn’t care what the clients buy. What Finn tells him, they’re only here to make money, try to cut ties and don’t over analyse the broken glass on the floor and try not to think that they could be last person that could see them  _ alive. _

_ Don’t call us when you’re passed out on the bathtub. _

It’s not so funny anymore.

“Thanks, i'll see you tomorrow.”

And she shuts the door, the echoing of the movie that he thinks is  _ Frozen  _ still pierces through the walls. She should be fine, she looks happy, sort of relieved. Before she was sort of mean, angry. It was an act, the three of them know.

But still… she’s  _ different  _ this time.

“She didn’t flip you off,” Sean says.

“Huh.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 12th, 2017, 7:23 PM_ **

What Finn said three years ago still rings, haunting him like an offer, another chance, a get out of free jail. It’s taunting him, just a free and easy option that they can take. They need the money, they need the cash. The longer they stay in this town, the more likely he’s going to get caught.

They’ve already had a few close calls.

One day it isn’t going to be a close call. The mask is going to get blown off. Everyone will see his face, seeing him like a dirty Mexican criminal even though he’s just a kid. But if they want to get out sooner.

They’re gonna have to steal.

They might be caught.

It might backfire.

_ Why is life so fucking unfair _

  
  



	8. before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi y’all! I’m so sorry this is so short like 4K words, I was just soo hooked in reading red white and royal blue such a good book, like literal sunshine in a book.
> 
> Kudos, comments and feedback is appreciated

_ He’s so fucking tired. _

_ He doesn’t understand any of the maths questions in front of them, numbers, brackets and fractions with weird tan’s and son’s slowly mushing together where he can’t tell which is which. The pen in his hands is starting to get heavier and the lamp in his desk is getting brighter and— _

_ He just wants this to end quickly. _

_ “Sean?” Lyla says, he looks up to his laptop, she looks exhausted just like him, just wanting to collapse and _

_ not want to think about the solve function on their calculators. _

_ He sighs, rubbing his eyes, “yeah?” _

_ “You good there?” _

_ “I fucking hate this,” He mumbles, mindlessly staring at the practise questions. They really should send an email to Ms. Kate, asks questions about how to solve the practise questions for the exam, but they don’t want to have that awkward lingering atmosphere when they stay behind after school. _

_ He pushes the book away, closing it as he stares into the ceiling. He’s too tired for this bullshit, who cares about a stupid score on a piece of paper. He’s just gonna forget about it a couple of years, just a distant memory, only remembering the part after the exam and feeling the relief and freedom. _

_ “I wanna smoke,” Sean mumbles, “too fucking tired too look at this shit.” _

_ “Sean we’re almost done, I can ask Jenn for some _

_ help—“ _

_ “Lyla please…” _

_ She giggles softly, “relax! I’m not trying to set you up, she’s like a cool math nerd.” _

_ “A cool math nerd?” _

_ “She saved my ass, we're not going to do a study night with her… unless you want to?” _

_ Sean groans, covering his face as he leans back against his chair. He doesn’t like Jenn. Lyla’s getting the wrong idea, he’s not interested in her, too caught up with his drawings (obviously). They’re too different, two opposites of each other, so different from each other that they won’t know went to talk about. _

_ He doesn’t like her. _

_ He doesn’t. _

_ He opens his drawer and moves around his books _

_ and the random junk, taking a roll of cigarette from his pack, putting it between his lips as he pulls out the lighter from his pockets. _

_ “Sean you're going to get caught,” she says, writing something down before stopping, putting down her pen before sighing. _

_ “You look tired,” he mumbles, lighting his cigarette on fire, “come on, smoke with me.” _

_ “Sean—“ _

_ “Lyla were fucking sophomores we have like two years to go.” _

_ “...Fine,” she says, going out of the screen to get something, he smiles, “but if I get caught, I’m blaming you.” _

_ “Deal.” _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 16th 2017, 1:28 PM_ **

It’s been a few days after they talked about stealing money.

Always tiptoeing, always so awkward with longer pauses that stretched out. They’re dinners and lunches and breaks has gotten strange, like two strangers eating in the same room. Sean always doesn’t know what to say in those moments, it’s drawn out and so silent. 

Their deliveries has also gotten quieter, only mumbling a couple of words that has something to do with the address or with Mason. They’re choking, suffocating in their own silences, afraid to break the ice and let it shatter all ugly. Not wanting to bring up the subject, let it fester all ugly until it infects them from the inside out.

Sean pedals just a bit faster to get a head of Finn, he’s somehow always leading these past few days, always going first. His eyes dart around the people that stare at them for only a few seconds, getting used to their presence. The mum and the kid. The old man. The 9 to 5 worker.

The two teenagers are always riding a bike everyday. The two friends are always riding together. 

That’s just what they are now.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 16th 2017, 2:12 PM_ **

He’s really craving pizza so  _ fucking  _ bad. It’s a weird thought when he sees the client open the door, eating a pizza of microwaved pizza as he leans against the door frame.

He looks like their age, it’s so weird how they’re obsessed with injecting things into them, causing them more.

But the thought of drugs floats away from his mind from just a moment. And he thinks off late night shows, watching Top Gear on the couch with pyjamas in a Saturday night. The smell of cheap pizzas from the nearest Pizza Hut, callous chuckles while they groan about the celebrity taking the race track. So casual, just a family relaxing.

_ He misses Daniel so much it hurts him. _

Before he knows it the door closes and the teenager isn’t there anymore, just a door with the paint chipping off. He steps back, the house looks so old, unkempt laws with the grass growing so tall, closed curtains. It looks like the houses that silly little kids with call a ghost house, haunted by the lingering spirits.

_ “Don’t get attached” or something like that,  _ he remembers. 

Keep a safe distance.

Detache when needed.

He looks at Finn when he gets on the bike, he looks back at him for a moment before he stares at the ground. He’s waiting for him, not wanting to go on his own. It’ll be better if they do it solo, much quicker, they don’t have to put up with this awkwardness.

But yet Finn wants him around.

He gets on his bike, letting him lead the way this time. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 16th 2017, 2:13 PM_ **

He can’t take this silence anymore, suffocating the both of them, breaking the fragments of their barely functioning and weird relationship. They’re gonna drown if someone doesn’t speak, they can’t pretend anymore.

He pedals just a bit faster, riding next to Finn this time. He hesitates for a few seconds, wanting to look at Finn, to open his mouth, to say the words he wants to say. 

“Finn—“

Before he could get a word out Finn suddenly crashed into the ground, falling off the bike and crashing into the cement footpath. Sean quickly gets off his bike, letting it fall to the ground, who cares about a stupid bike that Mason apparently bought.

He’s worried about Finn.

He kneels near him, ignoring the bystanders walking past, looking at what happened for a few seconds before continuing about their day. He turns Finn over slowly, remembering what he did in those weird First Response classes where he had to move a body (it was compulsory)

“Finn? Are you hurt? Are you okay?” He frantically says, panic in his voice. There’s cute and bruises on his face, “does you back hurt or—“

“I’m fine…” he mumbles, sitting up as he leans against Sean, breathing heavily, already trying to stand up, “it’s just that I saw someone.”

Sean stands up, touching his hands, turning it over to look for any bruised or broken bones. Checking to see if he’s broken anything, everything looks fine. Just a few bruises and scratches. But he looks at Finn in his eyes, watery, like he’s staring or reminiscing at a distant memory, a distant person, a stranger that he used to have a past with.

“Finn?” He says, looking at the stranger that’s Finn staring at, just across the street. He can’t see the details of this person, just dark skin, curly hair with jeans and a green hoodie.

But to Finn… it looks like that person rises the undead memories that he wanted buried.

“Jinx…” he mutters.

The person suddenly runs away. He expected Finn to run after him, but he didn't. He stays, only staring at him run away quickly, like he’s tired of running after people.

_ He really doesn’t know Finn at all. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 16th 2017, 2:20 PM_ **

Their deliveries can wait just a bit longer.

They both sit behind the parking lot of Target, it’s baron, just a few old cars parked. Sean sets down both of the bikes on the ground, sitting next to Finn leaning against the concrete wall. 

“You okay?”

“Never  _ fucking _ better,” Finn sighs, supporting his leg as he lays it straight into the ground, “I didn’t break anything.”

“Just scabs and cuts,” Sean replies. It reminds him of his first time skateboarding, only doing it to impress the pretty girl in eight grade that he saw in the skate park every time he goes grocery shopping. He was so  _ stupid _ , buying a cheap skateboard on amazon, quickly going to the skatepark and seeing her there with her friends. 

He then tried to do the ramp on his  _ first time _ and almost broke his arm, broke his skateboard while she was watching the whole time.

He wonders how she’s going. She left, never got her name, just another piece, a fragment of random memories in his mind. 

Sean stares out into the sky, cloudless, it’s unusually warm in the afternoon. It’s weird how the weather changes so quickly. Hot and cold.

Kind of like them.

“Can I ask you something?” Sean says, finger on his lips, feet away from Finn, this feels like a bad question to ask.

“Yeah.”

“Who was that,” Sean asks, “you looked at them like you’ve seen them before.”

He waits for Finn to answer, shifting his foot, rocks scraping against his shitty rubber shoes.  _ Fuck _ , he shouldn’t have said anything, it was stupid to ask anything, he should’ve kept his mouth shout, he should’ve—

“He was… he was a  _ missing _ person.”

Sean feels like his heart just dropped through the floor.

He shifts his body, looking at Finn, “what you mean?”

“I had this group of friends that I considered my family, there was this person, who was trying to find someone that they loved, going missing for so long.”

“And it’s them…”

“Yeah.”

He watches Finn slowly retreating to himself, watching him bring his knees closer to his body, his eyes drifting further away, not looking at him. He knows that feeling, that feeling of  _ regret _ , wanting to turn back the time and do everything differently. It’s a horrible feeling, it suffocates and makes it want to tear your eyes out.

So he gets closer to Finn, only just a few inches apart, “and it feels like?”

“I should’ve chased after him…” he mumbles, “I’m so fucking stupid I could’ve ran after him, I could’ve talked to them, say that the person that they’ve loved is trying to search for you, because they’re so  _ dedicated _ .”

Sean puts his hands on Finn’s lap, slowly moving it close to Finn, he stops for a moment. Finn stares at his hand, Sean is waiting for him to hold his, to squeeze it for that little bit of comfort where he can break for just a little bit. He needs that moment, he needs that bit—

“Maybe I’m just overthinking it,” Finn says, not taking his hand, Sean pulls it away, “I-I don’t know.”

Sean clears his throat, “I have some bandages if you want,” he says, sounding so awkward like he usually is, Sean Diaz, ruining the moment for since he was born.

Finn chuckles, a genuine chuckle, “yeah, sure.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 16th 2017, 2:30 PM_ **

He helps Finn stand up, a hand out.

He watched him smile.

And he thinks that they’re back to normal at last.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 16th 2017, 7:24 PM_ **

She’s off today

Sean can tell with the way that she leans against the door frame, eyebags darker underneath her eyes. She looks more exhausted than usual, tired, just wanting to collapse and not wanting to get up from your bed to even pee.

But Sean doesn’t say anything about, he just stands there, hearing her smile and nod to whatever Finn is saying.

“That’s a lot of fucking weed,” Finn says.

“I’m getting smoked tonight,” she says, glancing at Sean for a moment before looking back to the ground. 

“You gonna be fine?” Sean asks.

“I’m gonna be fucking great after smoking a blunt or two,” she says, forcing out a chuckle as it awkwardly dies down. He wants to say more than that, he can tell her off today. But he’s just a stranger, she doesn’t know her, they just deliver drugs to her.

That’s all.

Not friends, nothing more than that. Just strangers.

“Okay,” he says.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 16th 2017, 8:32 PM_ **

They walk their bikes, the guards outside of the mansion letting them in. The lawn is lit up by garden lights, swinging as a soft breeze blows by, brushing against his face as it swoops down to the ground to touch the kept grass. He doesn’t understand why it’s always maintained, the lawn only there to look pretty.

“Just drop it here,” Finn mumbles, setting the bike down on the soft grass. Sean follows, dropping it on the ground before following Finn inside. It’s too bright in here, blinking his eyes to let his eyes slowly focus. 

“Listen,” Finn whispers, he sets down the bag and all of the envelope full of the cash gently onto the ground, “I’m going to go talk to Mason and butter him up while you sneak around.”

“Fin we can’t just—“

“We’re not stealing Jesus,” he says, holding Sean’s hands, something ignited inside him, a spark, the warmth of Finn’s hands, the callousness of his hands, Finn squeezes his hands, “you’re going to look around, and when we get home we can decide.”

“Finn—“

“Just sleep on it, okay? Plus they’re shitty people, so it kinda cancels out.”

Sean lets go of his hands, chuckling, but he’s still nervous, fear in his chest and it feels like it’s going to grow into regret if he goes along with it, “cancels out?”

He hears footsteps, Mason already starting to come down, “just give me a second!”

Finn gestures his hands downstairs, “Go,” he whispers, “now.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 16th 2017, 8:33 PM_ **

He can hear them upstairs as he steps into the basement, it’s dark, hands palming the wall to search for the light switch. He finds it, flicking it on as he blinks his eyes. Lines of metal shelves stretch on, filling up to the brim with boxes and folders. He walks towards the nearest one, opening the lid as the smell of wet pine wafts in. Sean coughs, fanning the air as he looks at the stashes of weed inside.

_ “Where’s Sean?” _ He hears Mason ask, his voice muffled. Sean flicks through the folder and binders, skimming through the bills and payment and the letters.

_ “He’s uh… getting groceries.” _

_ “But he could get caught Finn.” _

_ “He’ll be fine.” _

There’s this weird silence, the second hand awkwardness seeps through the walls. Sean closes the binder, but he sees something, a photo. He takes it out, blowing off the layer of dust that it’s built up, probably just sitting there, collecting dust, just a random photo hanging in a binder.

But it’s not just a photo.

  
It’s a photo of Finn and Mason, younger, Finn looks 16, while Mason looks like his dad. Finn doesn’t look like the train hopping thug that he looks like right now. He’s different, just a simple teenager with jeans and grey hoodie, smiling at the camera while Mason has a piece sign, showing a bag of weed in his other hand. Finn didn’t have his dreadlocks in this, just a simple boy, smiling, not a thug.

Just an ordinary boy.

_ “Just a warning,”  _ Mason says, Sean quickly puts the photo back into the binder, closing it as he shoves it to the back off the metal shelves,  _ “there’s been a shit ton of police lately, might wanna leave soon.” _

_ “Shit… you sure?” _

_ “Yeah, I’m getting the fuck out of here. The boss is gonna take everything in a week and hide out in Mexico for a while.” _

_ “Is this because of--” _

_ “We don’t know,”  _ Sean stares to the ceiling, he quickly looks through the other aisles, there’s no safe here, _ “most likely _ .”

They’re going to have to leave in a week.

And they don’t even have enough money.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 16th 2017, 10:21 PM_ **

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck. _

It feels like his lungs are failing on himself, collapsing under its own weight. His hands feel clammy and he’s looking for something to grasp, to reach, to squeeze and hold so that he doesn’t fall apart further. His throat is closing into himself and all he wants to be right now is to be  _ alone. _

In his room, the door locked. 

Just the afternoon morning sunlight streaming through his window, soft callous noises from the neighbours kids laughing.

But he’s not there, he can imagine himself there, transporting himself sitting in his own room as he sits down on the mattress. It’s getting harder to breathe, and he’s slowly feeling like he’s losing the grip of life—

“Hey,” he hears a voice, “hold my hand.”

He quickly finds it, holding it tightly, not wanting to let go. Sean’s eyes are still closed, but this time he can imagine Finn sitting next to him on his bed. 

“I,” he pauses, his lungs inhaling quickly, needing more oxygen as he exhales, it’s too fast, he can’t speak, “F—F—“

“Don’t talk,” he whispers, feeling like a soft breeze in a hot summer day, a gentle kiss on his forehead, a soothing feeling Sewn gets when he puts aloe vera on a sunburn, “it’s okay.”

There’s tears uncontrollably streaming down his face, and his hands are too preoccupied to wipe it all away. He’s sticky and wet, falling apart while he holds Finn’s hand tightly. It’s the only thing that isn’t making him die under all this pressure, his rough palm is steadying him, grounding him.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 16th 2017, 11:09 PM_ **

He’s had a couple of panic attacks before. Five in fact. Three of them all on his own, falling apart on his own as he struggled to breathe, he felt like he was gonna die then, but he also needed that space to break apart. The fourth one was with Lyla, she didn’t touch him anywhere but his hand, it was enough. They had ice cream later, an unspoken agreement to not talk about it for the rest of the day.

The fifth one, is with Finn right now.

He’s still shaky, but not as bad as before, his hands are still frozen, it’s still hard to breathe.

But it’s progress.

“F—“

“Shut up,” he whispers, “we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 17th 2017, 7:12 AM_ **

His eyes slowly flutter open, and he’s greeted with the soft snores of Finn. Sean slowly realised that they both fell asleep sitting up, and they’re both leaning into each other. Sean wants to rip his own heart out and wants to go back to yesterday.

But he also realised that they’re slowly getting used to each other getting vulnerable, shedding their clothes, their skin, showing the scars and the ugly. One day they’ll go too far, one day they’ll see something they didn’t want to show.

He slowly lets Finn lie down before he stands up, looking around from the best they made. Their shoes scattered across the floor, wrappers and empty cup noodles litter the floor, he finds his wolf hoodie among the piles of dirty clothes that they need to wash.

He quickly throws it on, it reeks of weed and cup noodles, just what he expects. But this hoodie has been with him since day one, it’s a sense of weird familiarity and comfort, something that he always wears because he doesn’t have enough clothes.

This moment, this peacefulness. It gets him thinking that in another universe, in another world. His Dad didn’t die. Sean would have graduated high school, moving to the city to a shitty apartment to do a degree in Arts even though he doesn’t know what to do with that degree. 

He thinks that he would’ve met Finn in that other life, in a bar or through some group of friends. Maybe through a friend's friends, maybe just a lucky coincidence when he would run into him, and they would fall in love, simple as that.

He thinks that, in that life, everything would be okay. Sean would just be waking up just a bit too late, but he’ll excuse it since it’s the weekends. The New York hazy late morning sunlight would stream through the thin brown curtains that they got dirt cheap in Target. Sean would lie there in the bed which is just a mattress because they don’t have enough money for a bed frame (bed frames are overrated anyways)

Sean, in that other life would enjoy that mows this, breathe in that early morning air, the smell of earl grey, weed and coffee mixing in that would normally be fucking gross, but it would Finn’s smell, such an addicting smell that he’ll bury his face into the crook of his shoulder. Sean would snake his hands, fingers reaching for his hands, lacing their fingers together while he presses soft kisses in the nape of his shoulder, whispering sweet nothings, hoping that it’ll get embedded into his skin like another tattoo.

Finn would grumble, telling him to fuck off in a sleepy voice while Sean would just pepper him in even more kisses, revelling in the weird thing called love. In that moment, in that other life, they’re truly vulnerable, unguarded and bare. It would just be the two of them in that apartment, Sean cramming things into his portfolio while Finn would sit there, letting him lay on his shoulder if he needs a break.

He feels this weird  _ twisting  _ feeling inside him. Sean shakes his head, they’re not in that life, they’re in this life where Sean’s dad is fucking  _ dead,  _ buried six feet deep in a wooden cage. He’s in this world where he left behind his brother so that he can become a decoy where there's a moment where he would think that it’s a horrible mistake, a shit one, an irreversible one.

The last thing that Sean should be worrying about is a fictional relationship with Finn that spans across different worlds.

But it  _ still  _ doesn’t get rid of that twisting feeling inside him as he looks at Finn. And he thinks  _ oh shit. _

He’s such an obtuse fucking asshole. He’s an idiot. He’s an absolute moron. He’s a dumbass. This can’t be happening to him, even though this  _ has  _ been happening to him and he’s been questioning himself ever since the start.

_ What is this feeling? _

That pull.

_ But he’s Finn. _

_ And he’s Sean. _

Finn slowly rolls over, his eyes fluttering as he grumbles. Sean stretches, pretending that he just woke up and he wasn’t staring at Finn for a while. Finn looks well rested for once, the eye bags is just a bit lighter, he looks like he is not being held together by cup noodles and energy drinks for once.

“Hey,” Finn says, “you good.”

Sean puts his hands into his pocket, staring at his feet, “‘m find, better than last night. Thank you, for that. I uh… really needed that.”

Finn waves him off, “nah, it was nothing. I’ve had a few shares of shitty panic attacks, I know what it feels like,” he smiles at Sean.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_January 17th 2017, 7:34 AM_ **

Sean thinks about that photo again as they step outside, a cigarette between his fingers. He sits down, hands drumming against his jeans. He still doesn’t understand the relationship between Mason and Finn, was it like a parentable type? Replacing Mason with his own Father because his own dad might have completely abandoned Finn, maybe they were just friends, meeting each other in the perfect time when Finn was at his lowest.

He imagines Finn, 16, out in the streets with dirty clothes, starving and so weak. He would’ve felt so  _ hopeless _ , just in the brink of falling apart, to completely give up and just let the next car come in and crash into him. 

But Mason would’ve been there, wouldn’t he? He gave him a job, illegal but nonetheless, a job.

Sean shifts his position, leaning against the beams of the tiny veranda that looks like it’s falling apart. He sighs, breathing in the hearth of the cigarette, reminding him of bonfires on camping trips. Sean sighs, looking at Finn.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Sean mumbles. They already know what Sean is talking about, not even needing to bring it up. 

“We don’t have a choice Sean,” he says, he doesn’t look at him, only staring out into the trees that hides their little tiny cabin. If he could, he would stay here with Finn forever, turn this into their little tiny home and live off the land, just eating cup noodles and reading books that they’ve found in the cabin all day. 

But life isn’t fair.

“Okay,” he whispers, his knees brushing against Finn on accident. He feels a soft zap course through him, his cheeks suddenly warming up.

“We’ll pull it off, I promise.”

“I fucking hope so.”


	9. after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s so weird okay so before you read I’m gonna day that this is really rushed and I had this writing spree, I’m writing so much this week and I’m starting a project that’s going to be an original story, and I’m really having this writing sprees lately.
> 
> But this isn’t proofread or edited so this probably suck, but... I did it!
> 
> Kudos, comments and feedback is appreciated, I’m serious, comments literally give me so much power please comment <3

_ Sean yawns, stretching his arms before sighing, sinking into his chair while he sinks into his chair. He can’t get the perspective right, it’s all weird and screwed, it’s shit. He feels this sort of annoyance that quickly bubbles, exploding into this weird deflation of inspiration. He stands up, not wanting to look at his shitty sketch. He hates it. He wants to throw it away. He’ll never be a comic artist at this rate. _

_ He heard the door open behind him, he turned around. Daniel looks at Sean like he did something that he didn't mean to, a sort of accident that he felt so sorry and guilty for. Those eyes looking down, hands behind his back. _

_ “What did you do this time…” Sean sighs, walking past him as he steps into the kitchen. _

_ “I didn’t do anything, it's just…” _

_ Daniel didn’t break anything. _

_ “Enano?” Sean mumbles, he looks back to Daniel. _

_ He hesitates, before shaking his head and sighing, looking up at Sean, “Noah hates me.” _

_ “What do you mean?” _

_ “He hates me!” He yells, he sounds upset, like really upset, “I accidentally burned down his house at Minecraft that he spent so much time one and—“ Daniel wipes away his tears, falling down his cheek as his mouth twists at the corner, “I didn’t mean to!” _

_ Sean chuckles, “dude… are you serious?” _

_ “Shut up! I know it’s stupid but he really did spent hours on his house okay!” _

_ Sean kneels down, his smile disappearing into a simple grin at the corner. He wipes away Daniel tears gently, holding his hands gently, “look,” he pauses, sighing, he doesn’t know how to do this sort of talks, let alone that it’s about Daniel accidentally burning down a Minecraft house, “I’ll build it back for you.” _

_ Daniel's eyes suddenly light back up. The joy. The colour. It’s all coming back to his face so quickly, he smiles, “really?” _

_ “It’s really easy, give me like ten minutes.” _

_ Daniel throws himself into Sean and he’s not quite sure what to do or what to say, letting him sink into the crook into his neck, hugging him tight, “thank you, thank you thank you—“ _

_ He chuckles, “it’s not that hard, just give me the remote.” _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**January 17th 2017, 11:31 AM**

There’s this bubbling feeling, like a cauldron, slowly simmering away with the ecstatic excitement and the freezing fear that makes him want to go on his knees and cower.

He’s terrified,  _ absolutely terrified _ about what’s to come. He lets himself remind him that it’s going to happen later, there’s still time for him to mentally prepare and get himself ready. But that feeds him more fear, making his knees shake and want to collapse on the ground. The fact that they’re going through it still terrifies him, he’s not mentally ready.

Sean thinks he’ll  _ never  _ be mentally ready.

“You good?” Finn asks, he looks at him, pedalling slower. 

“I’m fine. Totally great. Completely cool.”

“I’ll do everything,” Finn says, trying to reassure him in some weird way of his, “just do what I tell you.

“Great.”

“Awesome.”

Sean cringes, he stays silent, coughing into his arm. It’s still not processing in his mind that they’re  _ actually  _ doing some sort of heist, which is fine—it’s cool—it’s something he hasn’t done before—is it going to go well?—What if they get caught?—Does Finn have a plan?

  
  
  
  
  


**January 17th 2017, 2:12 PM**

_ “Hi Son, I hope you'll work wonders with this new sketchbook. I'm sure you will. That is, if you're not too lazy to get to it. I remember your very first drawing was of me. NOW can you BEAT my skillful portrait of you? OK, RIGHT... I'll leave the art to you and go back to my engines. FELIZ CUMPLEAÑOS! 16 for 2016!.” _

There’s a soft smile that forms on his face, one mixed it with both sadness but also nostalgia. He remembers the first time he got this sketchbook, his 3rd sketchbook because all of his other ones have been filled with shitty, half assed sketches.

His Dad gave him a proper, clean sketchbook just for  _ him _ . He swore to himself back then that he’ll use it properly, that it won’t be filled with the same shitty sketches and it’ll be nearer, better, proper sketches. That, he’ll keep it clean and nice, filled with top notch sketches.

Now it’s dirty, unkempt with some of the pages hanging onto the book by just a finger. The sketches are scattered, messy, filled with streams of random thoughts to try to make sense of it all. He swore he would keep it clean and nice, fill it with good sketches.

And he did the  _ exact  _ opposite of what he promised himself. 

It’s kinda silly, kinda funny. What was once a really nice sketchbook (that apparently cost thirty bucks, jesus) is now just filled with memories, shaky handwriting trying to write down his anxiety filled thoughts. Random sketches of places and things he’s seen. An empty parking lot in the middle of the night is somehow relaxing to draw. The tiny cabin that they live in. The tiny building that the girl buys from them everyday. 

But Finn’s face always  _ somehow _ sneaks its way into the page like a parasite, a virus. Some sort of sickness that he can’t shake off, with his  _ stupid  _ smile and the way that eyes looks so soft. Does Finn know? How sometimes, he somehow sneaks into thoughts without him knowing, and once again he’s staring at him, with the weird butterflies seaming his stomach. 

He doesn’t know. He will never know. He doesn’t  _ need  _ to know. He can keep it a secret to himself. Just a stupid secret, something that can  _ never  _ get out. If it does, it’ll spoil whatever they have left, rotting everything in its path. It’ll destroy the two of them. 

“You good there?” Finn asks, Sean closes his sketchbook, staring at his foot. He thinks he can’t look at Finn, it’ll be too much for him to handle, too many emotions for him to deal with. He’ll combust, leaving nothing but his mouth open while he thinks of alternate realities.

“Just… nervous.”

“That’s good,” he mumbles, he sits next to Sean, “nerves are good.”

“That makes me sooo much better.”

He chuckles, “you’ve stolen before,” Sean asks, “right?”

Sean has, just tiny bits of food that he tucks into the pockets of his clothes, barely enough to keep him and Daniel alive. This is the same, right? Acting as a decoy to take some heat off Daniel. 

“I have stolen shit, from the tic tacs in the 7/11 store to the money from my job and all the way to some of the weed farms I’ve worked in.”

It feels like another tidal wave crashing over him. He’s still knowing who Finn is. Sean presses his lips into a thin line, he doesn’t know what to say. He wants to say something. He doesn’t want the silence to go on any further than it needs to. But nothing comes out.

“I’m a pretty terrible person,” Finn mumbles, “so there’s that.”

“I’ve stolen too.”

Finn chuckles, but there’s a bit of sadness that’s somehow woven in, “yeah, canned food to keep your brother alive. That’s understandable. But I steal, I have so much terrible shit before all of this.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Sean asks.

“I don’t know,” he says, pausing for a few moments, there’s been to many pauses recently, “I-I don’t know. I really don’t.”

They spent the rest of their break in silence.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**January 17th 2017, 7:43 PM**

Sean knocks on the door this time, rubbing his eyes while he stretches. It’s last delivery of the day, he’s tired and mentally tired, but he already feel the adrenaline slowly kicking in, the nervousness and the panic going alongside it.

She opens the door, “okay, see you, bye!” She hangs up on her phone, there’s a  _ genuine  _ grin on her face, the ones that creep on people, the type that people can’t wipe off. 

“Someone’s happy,” Sean comments. She exhales, smiling sweetly. He looks past 

and her and into her apartment, all cleaned up and nothing on the floor, there’s this smell of green tea and peppermint that wafts through the door and into the hallway. 

“Yeah… keep going and I’ll deck you on the balls,” she jokes, “don’t ruin my mood, I’m pissing off to another city for a few weeks so I’m getting the  _ fuck _ out of this hellhole.”

“Which I could come with you,” Finn joins in, “get me the fuck out of here.”

“I’ll get you on that three business days,” she fiddles with her phone, tapping her fingernails before turning on her phone to check her messages, “see if I can fit that in my schedule.”

“Here,” he gives her the bag, it’s much smaller this time, “just a few pounds?”

“Just for me,  _ this time _ ,” she shoved her phone into her pocket, the grin on her face still there while she peeks inside, “surprises that I’m not dead yet huh?”

“I’m surprised you still haven’t quit,” Finn banters. She flips him off, closing the door behind her with her foot. The noise echoes for just a few moments, loud enough that one of the neighbours opens her door, an old white lady peering out into the hallway before sighing.

And it settles in that they’re  _ going  _ to go with the plan of stealing, just within an hour

_ An hour. _

His palms feel sweaty and he thinks he’s going to have a heart attack. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**January 17th 2017, 8:34 PM**

The plan was simple. He’s memorised it in his head as they walk out of the building, quickly running into the corner where the guards and Mason can’t see them. They’ve debriefed this, discussed millions of ways that it could go wrong and it might  _ definitely  _ go wrong. But it’s their only shot at this, just a random shot in the dark.

And it might shoot something completely  _ dangerous  _ and might land the both of them in jail, their faces forever etched into people’s minds, into their records where Sean will spend the rest of his mind rotting in jail while Finn will leave in about thirty years, and he’ll watch him leave from his cell. Their faces will forever be ingrained into people’s minds. The thug and the  _ dirty Mexican _ .

They already did the first plan of their plan, to give Mason the money and pretend to walk out but stay until at the middle of the night. Finn’s overheard some overlapping conversation in the phone, there’s a bit of a change in the guards posts and the security reboot.

All within five minutes. 

The both of them sink deeper into the bush, watching Mason sit outside the porch while he dials someone on the phone. He sighs, in his trackers while he pulls out a cigarette and lights it up, breathing in ash while smoking out a puff of grey smoke.

“Hey hon,” he says, “y-yeah I’m good,” he pauses, a genuine smile on his face, “my boss is making me stay for a bit, till 12. Y-yeah of course I’ll pick it up on the way, don’t worry I won’t forget.”

Sean slowly tunes out and he feels this  _ pain  _ that twists inside him as he watches Mason let out a laugh. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**January 18th 2017, 12:00 AM**

They watch as Mason leaves the property with the rest of the guards, the cameras dying down. Sean feels his blood rushing to his ears as they get out of the bush, running to the front door as Finn takes off the tiny piece of pebble that he  _ somehow  _ wedged in, leaving the door open.

They fully open the door, turning both of their flashlights.

And all Sean can think about is the future and how  _ fucked  _ they are. It’s feeling like his life is already dead, already over and he’s just waiting for it to all crashing down on him. He’s frozen, he can’t move.

But he feels Finn’s hands on him, “hey, get a grip of yourself.”

“Ofcourse.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**January 18th 2017, 12:01 AM**

As a kid, he’s always played cops and robbers, games that evolved stealing in the playground with his friends, laughing as they chased each other around the equipment. He never won in any of of the games, the good guys always won, the cops ending up arresting them at the end of their little game.

So now it’s  _ weird  _ how he’s standing there, in what appears to be the Boss’s bedroom, all chic and new with only black and greys and whites, softened by the streetlights outside. The safe stares at them, but the floor is a sea of scattered documents and notes, scurrying to try to find the code.

“It starts with 30,” Finn mumbles, panic in his voice, “t-that’s all I know.”

Sean does to the other end of the room, opening the closer as he rummages through the drawers and the clothes, checking the pockets of the suits and clothes.

“Thirty something,” Sean repeats, “thirty something.”

_ Thirty something _ .

And his mind keeps repeating how much of a  _ fucking  _ mistake it is to be standing here in the bedroom, watching utter chaos unfold in front of him.

  
  


__

  
  
  


**January 18th 2017, 12:02 AM**

He’s panicking now. 

There’s this prickling heat behind his neck and he feel like he’s going to overheat, underneath his skin where he’ll be cool alive, letting the secrets and unsaid words inside him slowly spill out of him. They’ll cut him open when they find the both of them dead, see the lingering ghost that he keeps in himself.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, w-were going to be thrown in Jail—“

“Hey,” Finn whispers, “you’re a fucking dumbass,” he takes a notes from what he’s found within the drawers, he closes the distance between them, “look at me.”

His eyes draw up.

“You are one of the most  _ bravest  _ people I’ve ever known,” he whispers, like just a secret between them, only for them to hear and for no one else to hear, “you are not going to jail, and if we get caught. I want you to run. I want you to run for your brother and get away from here.”

Sean nods, he thinks his eyes are prickling with tears, but he’s still boiling inside, like trapped under layers of fabric, “Finn—“

Finn chuckles, “I have nothing left on this planet,” he looks at the note, but something sparks inside his eyes, a glint that slowly explodes into his mouth, “holy shit.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**January 18th 2017, 12:03 AM**

He thinks he’s dreaming. 

There’s nothing in the safe except a few stacks of cash, most of it is thrown into the account but it’s fine. This feels fake, a dream while Sean pinches himself, blood echoing inside his ears. This  _ shouldn’t _ have worked, a stupid plan worked.

The universe somehow took him in its arms, with his one out a billion billion shot, and said that’s  _ it’s okay— _ holding him— _ it’s fine now, it’ll go your way.  _

The heat inside him fizzles out and he’s left with the adrenaline, the excitement oozing out of him while he takes the tiny bits of cash, helping Finn to stuff it into their bags. He’s giggling to himself, not realising it. Finn is right beside him though, going with him in every  _ step  _ that he’s taking.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**January 18th 2017, 12:04 AM**

They’re both riding out of the street with the bag, riding out the euphoria, the high coursing through their vein. He feels so free, like he can do anything and get away with it all. The weight over his shoulder is suddenly gone, and he’s suddenly imagining himself running out into the track under a hot sunny day, sweating while he watches Dad and Daniel from the benches.

“We fucking did it!” He yells out into the night, he doesn’t care if he’s waking up someone. 

He rides closer to a Finn, riding quickly under the dark, starless sky, the flickering street lights slowly dwindling, bathing them in yellow hues as the road turns to gravel, feeling every bump and nook on the ride. It’s an absolute abyss out here, a terrifying sea of  _ nothingness  _ as they stare out into the sky.

There’s nothing.

No moon.

But it doesn’t matter. They’re high on euphoria. They can care about it all later, he look to Finn to left, smiling so sweetly, “we did it brother!”

“We did it!” Sean says, “is this a fucking joke?”

“It’s real,” he says, mouth agape, “it’s fucking real.”

Sean’s grip on the bike is tighter, “it’s real!”

“No shit it’s real!”

Finn laughs out loud, a genuine one that he hasn’t heard for a while. Sean finds himself looking at him, staring at the crinkles of his eyes underneath the street light, the corner of his mouth so soft. It’s a face that he hasn’t seen Finn make, something  _ genuine _ , a real laugh. Not the fake ones. Not the ones that he forces out.

The real ones.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**January 18th 2017, 12:16 AM**

They tumble inside their cabin drunk on the sense of Euphoria, knowing that it’ll dawn on them quickly. Finn throws the bag to the corner, while Sean starts to light a candle.

“Don’t,” he waves him, sitting on the mattress that they share, “open the curtains, there’s enough moonlight.”

Sean puts the candle down, putting his lighter back to his back pocket. He walks towards the curtains, opening them as the moonlight streams into the room, igniting everything in this soft blue light. It reminds him of the camping trips near the lakes near Oregon, just a year ago. It was beautiful, the lake reflecting the moonlight back into the luscious forest.

Finn groans, lying back onto the mattress, “Jesus fucking Christ we did it,” he laughs to himself, Sean sits next to him. 

And the air between them, the atmosphere feels so  _ gentle _ , easy going, “am I dreaming?”

“You’re not,” Finn replies. Sean lies into the mattress, hands on his stomach while he stares at the ceiling.

“It feels like it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Sean breathes out a shaky breath. The sound of cicadas fill the silence between them, there’s just a few inches between them, Sean wants to bridge that gap.

“Finn,” he whispers softly, terrified that if he says it loud enough, it’ll be brash and rough. He can feels his insides twisting and turning, a swelling feeling that wants to get out, “c-can I ask you something.”

“Yeah.”

He turns to face Finn, his mouth still agape. The distance between them feels like it’s slowly growing, they’re moving farther and farther away, inches turning metres. He’s  _ terrified _ . He’s thinking of the what if’s, that this could break the both of them.

There’ll be no more Finn and Sean after what he’s about to say to him. They’ll shatter and break, they were already cracked, brittle like the clay statues he made in middle school. There won’t be anything after this. They’ll never be the same. They’ll go into strangers again.

But this  _ feeling  _ is bursting to get out.

His lips are trembling, “w-were you ever in love?” He asks. Sean doesn’t want him to turn his face, to look at him right now. He wants him to stay like this, with a line of light from the moon landing on his face, starting from his forehead all the way down to his collarbone.

“I think everyone has,” he says, “why.”

“Was it a girl?” He says. There’s no going back. Past the bridge of no return. Sean can’t move, he’s frozen, locked inside his body while he’s forced to watch this car crash. He wants to move his hands, to move it close to Finn’s face, letting it glide along his jawline.

“Where is this going?” Finn turns to look at him, reaching out a hand to touch his face, wiping away his tears so gently, and he’s reminded of the times he felt the gentle touches, the softness of a person's hands against his cheek, “you can tell me anything?”

_ You can tell me anything. _

“Answer the question,” Sean says, eyes going anywhere but not at Finn.

“It was a guy back in middle school. It was a girl at high school before I left.”

“ _ Oh, _ ” Sean says. There’s this flutter inside his chest, it’s blooming inside him. There’s a chance, even if it’s just a shot in the dark, a one in a million, that Finn likes him back. The universe already gave him a miracle, one more can’t hurt. But there’s this  _ fear  _ that he can already feel, it’s crawling it’s way up from the depths. That this is just a joke. This isn’t real.

“Sean?”

“W-would you ever go out with someone who isn’t—“

“Yeah,” Finn places his hand in the middle of them, “yeah I would.”

There’s this gnawing voice inside his head that Finn’s playing with him, a sick prank, that he’s just a  _ toy _ . Sean clears his throat, looking at Finn in his grey-blue eyes, normally glossy. But in the moonlight, at night, it reminds him of the misty oceans, the murky lakes that reflect the moon at night. It’s something that’s deep, something deep enough to fall into, to allow himself to get lost in.

Would Finn let him? 

He’s walking closer to the lake now, the chilling air getting replaced with the soft curling of the water around his knee. Sean’s still terrified, “can I kiss you?” He says, it lingers between them.

He feels a hand behind his ear, Finn just stares at him, lingering. There’s this pause between them, Sean thinks he’s made the wrong choice, that this is all wrong, that this is fake, they’re going to  _ destroy  _ what little they had.

Finn hesitates, staring at his lips, eyes reflecting the same face Sean has on: Terrified. But he closes the gap, and his chest flutters and the feeling inside him explodes into a thousand sparks of joy and relief. His lips feel so  _ soft _ against him, he can taste weed in his mouth.

He’s fully submerged into the lake and he’s getting himself lost, and it feels like any of this isn’t  _ real.  _ So he grabs more of Finn, hand on his neck, sinking deeper into him, slowly sitting up to straddle Finn. Before he wakes up from this silly dream, before he’s suddenly out of the water, he  _ needs  _ a handful of Finn before he’s ripped away, he needs to remember the  _ taste  _ of him, his soft touches and how he feels like.

He tastes like weed, he knows that. But there’s the undercurrent of gum and instant noodles. He smiles into it, hands resting on his shoulder.

He also smells like cigarettes, but the shitty forest deodorant masks it up, making it smell like a shitty men’s cologne, a strong pungent smell. He can feel Finn grabbing more of him too, wanting  _ more _ of him too, grabbing handfuls before it all ends.

His skin is surprisingly soft, smooth. Sean finds himself touching the back of his neck, but also moving his hands to touch Finn’s, lacing their fingers together. The grip tightens. They don’t want to let go. They don’t want to separate. They’re still not done taking in each other, not wanting to pull away.

He also noticed how  _ aggressive _ Finn is, slowly letting him lead while Sean gets  _ lost  _ in him, going deeper into the lake, going deeper into the forest, running through the bushes. But it’s just going to be just a moment before it all ends. Before he wakes up.

But it doesn’t come.

Sean slowly opens his eyes, he’s still here, on Finn. He’s here. He feels this  _ flutter  _ inside his chest, he thinks it’s the adrenaline, the  _ after rush _ oozing out, excitement at his fingertips. Finn presses their foreheads together, he can hear his soft breaths. He lets himself wonder, how he would have this  _ so many times over _ , how it’ll happen over and over again in the future. How he’ll find himself waking up next to him, hearing his soft breathing in the silence, and he’ll lay there on Finn’s chest, listening to him.

He cups Finn’s face, “holy fuck,” he chuckles. 

“Yeah.”

“I think this is a great time to tell you that I think I’m bi.”

“Cool,” Finn replies. But  _ something  _ shifts in his face, just for a moment where Sean realises a spark of fear, a look of realisation, before replacing it with a laugh.

  
  


And Sean wishes that this _ will _ stay. That one of the only  _ good  _ things he’s ever experienced will  _ stay. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**January 18th 2017, 11:16 AM**

His eyes flutter open, waking up with the sun on his face. Sean thinks he can get used to this, just lazy mornings, waking up next to Finn. 

“Finn?” He calls out, rubbing his eyes as he sits up.

But he isn’t there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They fucking finally kissed omg, I kinda liked writing the end of the chapter but what happened to Finn 👀👀


	10. sudden ablaze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally did the rest of the 400 word sin one sitting omg I kinda did that. Might take a one week break before continuing with this, maybe focus on other projects zzzz
> 
> THERES REFERENCE TO ABUSE IN CHAPTER!!
> 
> Kudos, comments and feedback is appreciated 
> 
> [there’s a prompt in this chapter to play a song and it’s called haunt me by teen suicide](https://youtu.be/4yHuDKlcn-k)

_ He’s slowly noticing how his Mum and Dad is acting differently. Like right now, as Daniel picks up another one of his toys. He frowns at him, wanting him to disappear and to go away and to leave his toys alone. _

_ But Dad is always saying to share his toys with Daniel, but he doesn’t want to share. He wants to keep all of his toys to himself, make a huge castle and fill it with just his toys and cars. Definitely no girls can go into the castle. Jason from his class can come into his castle. He’s nice.  _

_ Sean stands up, he can hear voices underneath the door. They aren’t arguing, it’s soft and quiet, like how him and Jason would talk during class by whispering. _

_ He gets his ears nice and close to the door, the wood feels cool against his ears. _

_ “Karen are you sure about this?” _

_ Sean looks back to Daniel, he’s so young, he’s almost one years old apparently. Was he like a baby before this? _

_ “Esteban… it’s the best for all of us,” they pause, Sean can hear shuffling, then a soft sob follows, “I need to leave early, so that Daniel can forget about me.” _

_ “Karen—“ _

_ “I-I can’t have him remembering me, it’ll hurt him too much.” _

_ “I know.” _

_ “So I should go soon, I already have the files and papers already signed and everything.” _

_ “How soon?” He can hear his dad suppressing a sob, “stay, one more week.” _

_ “I can’t, you know that.” _

_ “ _ **_Please_ ** _.” _

_ Sean doesn’t understand what they’re saying. It sounds like gobble-gook, why is mum leaving? Why is dad pleading to stay? He wants to go on another camping trip with her, it’ll be fine if Daniel comes along with them, it’ll become bearable if Daniel stays in the tent at all times. _

_ He sighs, he never understood his parents. _

_ “Daniel! Sean! Get ready at twenty we're eating out.” _

_ “Okay!” _

  
  
  
  
  


**January 18th 2017, 11:17 AM**

This isn’t making sense. Finn isn’t here.

He said that they’ll leave quickly, early in the morning so that they won’t chase after them. Finn said that they’ll leave at 8 am, he said that they can walk for three days and they’ll find a train to hop into. It would be the last train before they’ll have to start to walk, or hi jack a car.

So why is he missing?

They didn’t kidnap him. The door is still locked from last night, but Finn’s stuff is  _ gone _ . All the clothes that are usually on the floor, bringing just a little bit of personality and colour into this dark and cold cabin by bringing chaos and chaos.

That’s what a Finn is, chaotic and messy. 

His fingers glide across his own lips, he still can’t believe Finn kissed him last night. It was real. But there’s this panic, this  _ twisting  _ feeling inside his chest and it’s getting harder to breath. He quickly runs outside, feeling the harsh cold against this naked face.

“Finn!” He yells out, maybe he’s just out here, “Finn!”

The forest replies back with a sudden gust of wind.

He goes back inside and sees the duffel bag next to the door, it’s  _ Finn _ ’s duffel bag, with a receipt on the top.

He picks the receipt. It’s the burger order ages ago. Finn kept it this whole time? Like a treasure, like a trinket, holding so many memories and feelings thats associated with it.

He turns it over.

It’s Finn’s messy handwriting. He wrote it with Sean’s pen.

_ I’m not good at words, so I’m going to make this quick. _

_ I can’t do this. I can’t do  _ **_us_ ** _. I’ll break and ruin you and I’ll get you into even more trouble, I’ll make you focus on me instead of your brother and you. We can’t work. _

_ I’m sorry, I really am. _

There’s this sinking feeling inside his chest, he thinks it’s going to go deeper and deeper, alth way down to the centre of the Earth. An empty feeling resides inside his ribs, growing and seal long  **_everything_ ** that has anything that’s associated with Finn.

His smiles.

His face. 

His ghostly touches.

Instant noodles.

Late night conversations.

_ The kiss. _

_ Did the kids mean anything to you? Finn? _

He wants to kill him, he wants to  _ kill  _ Finn. Sean doesn’t care if he lands in prison. How can he do that? How can Finn creep up in his sketchbook, then to his thoughts then finally overtaking his dreams, usually overtaken with the guilt of leaving behind Daniel. That his dreams are usually filled with  _ him _ , his hearty laughs and his  _ witty _ humour, always finding a way to joke. That in his dreams, Finn is close to him, skin touching, holding his breath, both of them being in the cabin, or the parking lot or in Sean’s room, or perhaps nowhere at all.

And it  _ happened _ , it  _ fucking  _ happened. His first kiss.

He wants to shout, but the hollow feeling is taking over. The inferno is burnt out, too exhausted to lash out and to burn down the whole forest around him.

So instead he collapses, shock still in his fingers as it shakes, opening the duffel bag. The cash is still there,  _ all  _ of it with a map at the top that shows the route to how to the border.

He’s gone.

Finn’s gone.

He left just as Sean got a handful of him, just as he’s at his fingertips he’s  _ gone. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**January 18th 2017, 11:18 AM**

Sean doesn’t blame Finn. He blames  _ himself  _ for being so  _ stupid  _ in believing that they would work. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss.

It was Sean’s  _ first  _ kiss. He remembers the electricity running through him, jolting and lighting him up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. He remembers his lips against Finn’s soft, fragile, contrasting against his brash and witty self. 

He misses him.

_ He misses him. _

“You’re so such a fucking idiot!” He yells, one of Finn’s T-shirts in his hand that he must’ve forgot, he hesitated to throw it out into the forest. It smells of fresh pine, weed and the undercurrent of lit cigarettes, he wants to throw it out into the forest, to let it get torn apart into a rags by birds, to let it get submerged deep into the earth and suffocate.

But he  _ can’t  _ bring himself to throw it out. He’s hesitating.

“Fuck you. I fucking hate you,” Sean says, wiping the angry tears on his cheeks that stings in the cold air. He bites his lip, teeth biting deep into the skin, the pain echoing. He hates this. He hates  _ everything  _ about this. Finn swept him off his feet, letting him into his mouth, two boys hungry for the electric touch. Finn let Sean have him. But he ran, taking his first kiss with him. Now he can’t look back at his first kiss without feeling that  _ pang  _ inside his chest.

He’s always obsessing with everyone he meets. To Jenn. To the moments in the locker rooms, where his eyes would drift to Ellery when they’re changing, eyes looking at sweaty dark skin that reflects the shitty lights above, going down to his chest.

He would always look for just a second. No less. No more.

So now he’s left all alone, Finn stole his first kiss, his heart and ran away with it. Now he’s alone, but he’s been through it before. He was doing fine without Finn when he met him on that night, on the train. He can manage it all on his own.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**January 18th 2017, 1:02 PM**

He misses Finn.

The games that they would play when they’re walking. The silly jokes. His bland but funny at the right moment humour. The way he smiles. The way that he laughs. The way that he shows a little bit of himself to Finn, things he doesn’t tell other people, often keeping it in a safe, tucking it away in the corner, in the shadows.

And Sean opened himself as well, letting Finn see who he is. They were exchanging little pieces of themselves, who they were, what flavours of noodle cults they like. It starts from tiny things, all the way to tiny secrets that they have to whisper in the dark, deafening in the abyss between them. 

He fixes the straps of his back bag, the texture feels nice against his palm. But it’ll compare to Finn’s hands, calloused, rough but a tender sweetness to it when he holds it, the warmth spreading through him like lightning. The trees do little to distract him. His feet is sore, pain pulsating, taking his thoughts off  _ him. _

He wishes the pain keeps going. He wishes that it’s painful enough that he can bring all of his attention to it, never having to think about  _ Finn. _

_ Finn. Finn. Finn. _

_ “Woah slow down there,”  _ it’s one of Finn’s first words to him on that train, under the moonlight.

_ “I’m not… I’m not going to hurt you,”  _ yet he did. Sean wants to  _ hurt  _ him.

But at the same time, he wants him back so badly.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**January 18th 2017, 2:43 PM**

The afternoon sun casts shadows against the twisting branches.

The terrain is getting more plain, less bumps and mountains and hills.The forest is slowly disappearing, he can see it in the map he has,painfully reminding him of Finn’s ghostly fingers pointing at where to go, planning the route they were going to take together.

_ Were _ . 

He hears the sound of tires against gravel, the sound of rocks and pebbles crunching while the dust swirls and spins. Sean keeps walking, putting his hoodie up, keep walking. If Sean keeps walking, maybe they’ll ignore him and keep driving.

The car slows down.

Sean feels his heart hammer against his chest.

He heard the window roll down, the car slows down to a walking speed, “hey! It’s time! The girl that you deliver to everyday!”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**January 18th 2017, 2:44 PM**

The cool A/C burns his throat as he inhales, shutting the door after he gets in. She puts her foot on the pedal, Sean turns up the radio volume that’s playing another pop song.

“I never got your name,” Charlotte says, her hair in a bun. She looks exhausted but happy, eye bags underneath her eyes, her white hoodie shining brightly against her brown skin, her grey sweatpants just a little bit big on her.

  
  


Sean feels his stomach turn into knots, “my name is Sean, I think you already know that.”

“Yeah, you’re over the news.”

“And you didn’t snitch on me?”

“Why the fuck would I?” She says, chewing her bottom lip. “one of my friends lived in that street, he saw the whole thing,” she pauses, sighing, “fucking cops.”

“Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me?”

“For not handing me to the cops.”

“I should’ve done more, I could've helped the two of you,” she says, guilt in her voice “Finn, that other guy, where is he?”

“He left,” Sean says, staring out of the window, chewing on his lower lip, “I made a shitty mistake, he  _ left  _ me.”

_ He was supposed to give a burner, he was supposed to do so many things before he left,  _ Sean wants to say, but it doesn’t come out of his mouth.

“It couldn’t have been bad.”

Sean goes silent, biting his lip. He wants to be back at Seattle, curl into a ball under the comfort of his blanket with  _ Gorillaz  _ playing softly in the background. He doesn’t want any of this. This  _ feeling  _ of wanting Finn back, in his arms, under his mouth. But it feels suffocating, gasping for air when he gets near him.

“I don’t know,” he says, biting his fingernails, “I… I fucked up so bad,” he can feel tears forming in his eyes, “I fucked up one of the only good things that has happened to me in a long time.”

The tears feel hot, burning against his skin like the very inferno inside him. It’s not angry tears, it’s not sad tears. It’s the hollow sort of tears that lingers. It’s one of the worst ones.

Sean wipes his tears away, “sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she says, her voice so comforting, reminding him a bit of home, “my girlfriend… I was kind of living with her. Fucked up whatever we had. We didn’t label anything,” he turns to her, “so I came here, just two months ago. Reselling weed and drugs to idiots. Taking some of them. But she called me after two months, frantically talking about her Dad that she lives with and how it’s getting bad and--”

She stops herself, the car slowing down just a little bit. Her knuckles go white, “sorry, I’m like doing that thing where I ramble. The point is that, you  _ have  _ to try to get him back.”

“He hates me.”

“Did he tell you that?”

Sean goes silent.

“Then you can ask him yourself, because saying  _ nothing  _ at all is the worst that could happen,” the car goes back to it’s normal speed, “I mean look at me, look what happened.”

“Is your girlfriend? Is she okay?”

“I don’t know.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**January 18th 2017, 4:28 PM**

The sky is slowly getting darker with each second.

He said a place that Finn mentioned, somewhere in Humboldt where there’s an underground weed farm. Charlotte knows where it is, the mention of the weed farm quickly shifting something inside her as she turned the car around. He’s slowly learning bits and pieces of her through their conversations, just fractions of who she is.

She’s going to LA, where her girlfriend is. She has enough money to get her out, to try to start their relationship with her again and to get her girlfriend out of her Dad’s house. Before all of it, they were electric and fast, a lit candle burning too fast. They were rushing things, loving like they don’t have the time in the world. That was their biggest mistake. They quickly burned themselves out, leaving nothing but wax, tears and unsaid words tainted with unfilled promises.

The gravel roads slowly change into asphalt roads, the trees towering over them that casts long shadows on the ground. He finds himself thinking if him and Finn would be like that, they would love like a candle, too fast, too much. Would that happen to the both of them? Burn through themselves so fast that they leave nothing but a shadow of the past? He bites his lip, closing his eyes. He doesn’t want to think. He wants to go to sleep.

It’s not long till he sees Finn, just an hour to go.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**January 18th 2017, 4:35 PM**

_ “Sean?” _

_ “Hey, hey look at me. Keep talking to me,” he pauses, “r-remember the cabin?” _

_ “The cabin?” _

_ “Yeah the cabin, remember that?” _

_ … _

_ “Hey, babe stay with me please. Keep talking to me.” _

_ “Sean?” _

_ “Yeah? Just make it quick I’m trying to—“ _

_ “Thank you.” _

_ “What do you mean?” _

_ “For showing me—“ _

_ “Stop. Stop it. Whatever you’re gonna say just stop.” _

_ “That I could love you—“ _

_ “Finn  _ **_please_ ** _ stop. You’re gonna be fine.” _

_ … _

_ “I’m sorry. Sean.” _

_ “Finn?” _

_ “Finn? Wake up!” _

He jolts himself awake. Heart hammering against his chest. Short, shallow breaths trying to feed more oxygen into his lungs. Sweat on his forehead. His throat is tightening. It’s getting harder to breath. Finn. Where is he? Finn—

“Hey,” the car halts to stop, “hey it’s okay you were just having a dream,” she hovers his hand over his, waiting for the nod to touch him, “hold my hand.”

He does. His knuckles go white. He tries to take deeper inhales, trying to get more oxygen into his lungs. 

“F-Finn he—“

“He’s not here, he’s at Humboldt. You were just having a bad dream.”

_ You were just having a bad dream. _

_ Of course he was. _

It’s his fault. It’s Sean’s fault for trying to catch just an hour of sleep, a fleeting hour that turned into a panic attack. He’s stupid. He’s so  _ stupid. _

  
  
  
  
  
  


**January 18th 2017, 5:12PM**

It took a long time to calm down after that. It’s one of the fastest he’s ever recovered, but his hands are still just a little shaky. He takes out his sketchbook, trying to write coherent words but almost ruining the page because his hands are so shaky. He sighs, feeling the car start up again. He feels the bumps on the roads, his hands wanting to grasp something. He settles for his pen, twirling it between his fingers.

“I’m sorry,” Sean mutters, so quiet that someone would have ignored it.

“It’s fine,” she says, offering him a warm smile, “really, I have panic attacks so I know how it feels.”

She reaches for the radio, flicking through the channels and turning up the volume. It’s the news channel. His insides start to swirl, the churning feeling is back. It’s the news talking about him and Daniel again.

“I can change the channel—“

“No,” he says, shaking his head, “keep it on this one.”

Because the longer he puts it off, the longer it’ll sit and fester, spoiling away into a sickness. He bites his lip, his hand drumming against his thighs. All he’s hoping is to not hear about Daniel. For him to still be there at the Reynolds. To still be safe.

The radio crackles.

_ “More information on the Diaz Brothers. Authorities are now putting out that they have spotted Sean Diaz in California, Head Police Chief comments that ‘this area is still rather wide, but it does help in tracking him down, we do believe he might be in Chico city’. However, there have been no sightings of Daniel Diaz. This is 99.7 FM for your quick news, now here’s some old schools to help your on your ride back home.” _

Black eyed peas fill up the car, bouncing off the car walls. He sighs, letting the sensation of relief wash through his hands and neck, overtaking the nervous churning and the twisting inside him. Daniel is still safe. He’s fine. His plan is working all nicely.

_ It’s a right dude, Daniel is fine. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**January 18th 2017, 6:03 PM**

The car slows a stop. It looks like just another part of the road. Sean opens the door and steps out, finding himself looking up the very skies to see the top of the tree, it’s bark having an orange tint within the waning golden hours of the sunlight hanging over the horizon. It’s getting late. They should hurry.

“Are we here?” He asks.

“Been a while since I stepped into the farm.”

“You’ve been at the farm before? You worked there?”

“Just for a month before coming to Chico,” she mumbles, “it’s not the worst, they don’t rip you off here.” She offers him a soft smile, looking over to the sudden shift in the ground, going down. It’s not steep, but if you aren’t careful you could break something.

He touches the bark of the giant trees, the rough bark against his dirty palm. This is just a hunch of where

Finn  _ could  _ be. Just a place he’s named through their conversations, a place close to Chico. Sean randomly picked it. He doesn’t know if Finn is truly here, past the giant trees and the hiding rivers. The thought shakes him. The fact that Finn is lost forever. The fact that he might  _ never  _ see him, one of his worst fears coming true, Finn just becoming another faceless stranger, a memory that’s deeply ingrained into his mind. That night at that cabin. Him under his lips. The shakiness. 

It all belongs to Finn. His first  _ kiss _ , and now he’s just going to be another memory. He feels like sobbing, feeling tears sting his tears. He’s been crying a lot lately. Sean wonders what Finn thinks of that. Would he drift his fingers across his cheek? Softly wiping away the tears, cupping his face so gently, staring into his eyes? Would Finn bridge the gap? To kiss him again deeply, like they’re running out of time? Would it be breathless like last time? What time of breathlessness would it be? The hungry, electrifying  _ breathlessness  _ that always wants more, to have more handfuls of  _ him?  _ Or would it be the selfish type of  _ breathlessness?  _ The type that wants before there’s no more, taking handfuls before there’s no more of them?

He’s terrified. His heart hammer against his chest, tightly grabbing the branch as he follows Charlotte down. He hopes that she knows what she’s doing, putting all of his hope into a stranger. It’s strange how many people he’s met through this journey. From Brody and his blog. To Finn and his soft smiles. Mason and his strange past with Finn. Now to Charlotte and her dedication to meet her girlfriend.

It feels like he’s slowly moving away from what he once was. It’s terrifying, seeing so many people in the streets and getting exposed to  _ so many people _ and lives. He feels like he’s slowly detaching himself to that boy in his room, sitting on the chair and talking to Lyla on Skype. He feels like he’s losing his very core. It’s terrifying.

His once soft skin, having to turn to rough and tough out on the road glows into a beautiful brown skin against the sunlight, filtering through the leaves. The ground evens out. The trees grow larger. He looks back to the car at the top of the hill.

“Just a five minute walk now,” she says, “then we should be close.”

He nods. His chest is bursting, excited that he’ll meet Finn, but terrified that there will be  _ nothing  _ there for him. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**January 18th 2017, 6:08 PM**

The woods opens up into a huge lake, he steps over a fallen tree. He’s in awe, the lake reflects the colour of the sky, painting a beautiful array of oranges, reds and yellows, cascading into a sea of darkening blue further out into the lake. The sand crunches beneath his feet. A breeze flows by.

“I’ll be here,” she says.

Sean turns to her and nods. He’ll have to do all of this all on his own. His feet feels heavy as he walks, turning to the left as the path looks like it’s man made, digging into the dirt while fallen giant trees surround him. Each step feels more heavy and loud. His heartbeat echoes inside his own ears.

He’s  _ terrified.  _ Absolutely terrified. This feels like a car crash in slow motion. Watching the front of the car get broken, the beautiful interior getting torn apart, all the intricate nails and bolts drilled in, the generator and battery shattering. The mirror falling apart into a million pieces. 

And all he can do is watch and keep going forward.

He stares in awe as the camp comes into view. He counts the tents, all having its own personality. The sign that says  _ will eat for food _ leaning against the white chair near the blue tent, the bottles of beer in the other, one of the tents looks professional, expensive with all the intricacies while the last one looks so  _ clean _ and spotless. In the middle is what he thinks is where everyone goes to hang out, a blue tarp sheltering the coffee machines, water, sink and the chocolate bar on the table. There’s a fireplace to the left of it, with wooden logs surrounding. He imagines the people here sitting there at night, sharing stories when they’re drunk, pasting on their life stories into other people, sharing parts of themselves while they earn parts of other people from the stories.

Is this what he and Finn are? Just passing bits of themselves back and forth, through their secrets? Through their laughters when they share a funny memory. He’s slowly becoming Finn. Finn is slowly becoming him. He’s becoming more of him, but he’s just reaching under the surface, seeing who Finn is. He wants to know more. Sean wants to fall into him. 

It’s scary how  _ electric  _ this feeling is.

He sees Finn sitting on the logs, carving out a stick with his knife. 

“Finn…” he says softly, because if he says it louder, he’ll probably break the silence between them. Finn looks up, the golden sunlight slowly changing into a soft, deep blue. Deeper than the very oceans. Deeper than the abyss in the sky. It costs everything in this soft, blue hue.

“What are you doing here?”

“You  _ left  _ me.”

Silence.

“You should go, you have the money to keep going—“

“I can’t do it without you,” Sean pleads, Finn stops carving the stick, “T-there’s this weird feeling in my chest when I look at you and I don’t  _ fucking  _ know what it is and it’s scary.”

Sean presses his lips into a thin line. He wipes away his tears he didn’t know he had.

“Come back to me, Finn.  _ Please.” _

_ Please _ .

Come back to him, Finn. Come back to his arms. Come back to that time in that cabin, when Finn was under Sean’s lips, feeling that electricity running through him, diving deep into the lake of the unknown. Come back to home, into Sean’s arms. Come back to the home that they made.

_ Come back. _

“I don’t know what I want—.”

“—You  _ fucking  _ want me.”

“But I don’t want this!” Finn stands up, his knuckles going white as the grip on his knife tightens by his side. Sean can see the angry tears in his eyes, the same inferno that he has seen back in that house. But it’s different from his. It’s swimming with guilt and indecision, holding Finn back. It’s swallowing him  _ whole _ . Eating him alive, leaving behind bare skeletons of its past. 

Sean reaches our, touching Finn’s arm, “we’ll make it work—“

He shakes him off, “I can’t do this again Sean.”

“It’ll be different.”

“Why are you trying to do this with me? I’ll break  _ us.” _

“No,” Sean shakes his head, his voice growing louder, his own inferno slowly spiralling, going ablaze, “no you won’t Finn.”

“I don’t want to do this  _ anymore _ !” Finn yells, “I’ve been through this before! You don’t know me! We’re nothing alike!”

“Yes we are stop saying that—“

“—You only want  _ us  _ because we’re both terrified and need warmth in the middle of the night,” Finn scoffs, letting the tears fall to the ground, quickly drying against the dry ground.

“No I don’t stop it.”

“It’s true!”

“Stop saying that.”

“Why aren’t you fighting for us Finn?”

“Why are  _ you  _ fighting for us?” Finn strikes his finger into Sean’s chest, “there is no us.”

“Yes there is.”

“Stop lying to yourself—“

“It’s because I like  _ you! _ ”

He said it. It came out of his mouth. Now his ears rings after the fire that sets ablaze the entire forest, the aftershock sending them into silence. They stare at each other, seeing the inferno in their eyes that set the forest in fire. Pure angry swirling with inking doubt and guilt. 

Sean musters to keep going, “I’ve liked you for so long,” he says, he comes close to Finn slowly, seeing if he pushes him away, he doesn’t, he presses their foreheads together, breathing in the same, “we have to try, okay? Because you’re one of the only  _ good  _ things that has happened to me in a long time.”

“What if we don’t like each other.”

“Then we stop.”

“We depend on each other too much.”

“We’ll work on that.”

Sean stays silent, thinking back to those moments where he wishes he was in a different universe. Sleeping next to Finn in the bed while he tries to get his Art degree. This might not be the best, but he’ll settle for it. He won’t wake up to the lights filtering through the blinds. Or the kisses before he goes to class. Or to hugging Finn from behind as he cooks dinner.

But in this world, he’ll wake up to sees Finn. That’s enough.

So he kisses him through the salty tears with the type of breathlessness that wants handfuls, wanting more. It’s the hungry type of breathlessness, knowing that this won’t last, that this won’t last. They are going to a fleeting thing in their lives. They will go their separate ways and become distant memories.

And Sean has to find a way to be okay with that.

He pulls away, culling Finn’s face. Staring at him in awe. They don’t need words to say anything, because their faces and tear-stained cheeks says  _ everything  _ that they have to know.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**January 18th 2017, 6:11 PM**

Finn surprised him with a burner. He pulled it out before going back to the car, saying that he was going to give it to him today. It feels heavy in his hands.

“I can come with you.”

“I need to do this myself Finn.”

He puts in the numbers, Lyla’s phone number etched into his sketchbook. He doesn’t need to look for it in his sketchbook; he already knows it by heart by saying it a thousand times. Sean knows that she won’t pick up the phone, letting the phone ring.

_ “Lyla here, say whatever you want after the beep.” _

“Hey Lyla,” he says, whispering into the phone, “I’m sorry for not calling you it’s just that I’m  _ terrified _ . I don’t want to drag this out but—“

He wants to drag this out. He wants to say  _ so  _ many things into the call, wanting to talk about Finn and his first kiss. But he knows that if he rambles, he won’t stop. He’ll stay here for all of eternity.

“—I’ll keep this quick. I… I’m safe, me and  _ Daniel  _ are safe,” he lies, “I can’t tell you where I’m going but… that’s not that point of this call. I miss you so  _ fucking  _ much Lyla. Can’t you believe I had my first kiss! I had it last night!” He says, laughing himself, “but I think of you every  _ second  _ of my life. So don’t lose hope for me, okay?”

He hangs up. Brushing his tears away as he smashed the phone into tiny pieces.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**January 18th 2017, 8:32 PM**

“I wish I can do more,” Charlotte says, her voice filling the silence, the radio hasn’t been on in two hours, “I wish I can give you my car and just have you drive all the way down to—“

“‘This is more than enough,” Finn says, “just drive us where I showed, we’ll go train hopping for the rest of the way.”

“Okay.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**January 18th 2017, 11:58 PM**

_ Now playing Haunt me by teen suicide  _

Sean hugs her tight, feeling the air twist and curl around them in the hill. They have five more minutes until the train arrives. He doesn’t want to let go, she’s going to become a distant memory as the time goes. But he’ll treasure it  _ forever _ , a face that has helped him so much.

He wipes the tears from his face, “you’re crying,” he jokes.

“You’re crying too,” she replies, wiping away the tears from her face, “fuck I’m going to miss you Sean.”

“Say hi to your girlfriend for me.”

“Say hi to your boyfriend for me.”

“I don’t even know what we are.”

She touches his shoulder, “you don’t have to label it right now, just stay safe, okay?”

He nods. 

She hesitates, standing there for a few moments before going back to her car. In a few hours she’s going to be in LA, with blinding lights with a buzzing life. She’s going to get her girlfriend form her dad's house, they’re going to be okay.

He wishes that him and Finn will be fine.

Sean watches her look straight ahead, not wanting to look at him, not wanting to cry. She drives off, watching the lights of her car grow fainter until she goes around the corner.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**January 18th 2017, 12:03 AM**

The cart that they’re in is empty, besides a few graffiti from other travellers. Moonlight comes through the doors and a pleasant gust of wind comes in, smelling of forest pine. It’s strange how they’re leaving Chico and Humboldt behind so quickly. He’s moving futher away from home. Finn is next to him, holding their luggage and their bags.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Sure.”

“I was there in that camp because my friends were there. They were  _ family,  _ a few months ago I left them because I was a fucking idiot and got into an srguement with Cassidy—“

“Finn you don’t have to tell me everything—“

“—and back at the house, my uncle. I hated  _ him.  _ H-he wasn't like that, all nice and shit. He tried to shape me into something I wasn’t and made me  _ fucking  _ worthles when he tried to blame me for my dad’s jailtime—“

“Hey, stop it,” he holds Finn’s hands, “don’t tell everything, Kay? Not now, tell me later, slowly when you’re comfortable.”

Finn nods. Sean presses a kiss into Finn’s forehead.

And Sean thinks in this very moment, he can forget that  _ this _ is fleeting. That he’s not being a decoy to save his brother. He closes his eyes, letting himself be back home at his apartment, tangling his feet with Finn under the covers while they laugh themselves silly.

The universe isn’t  _ fucking _ fair.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ The bullet barely skids past him, missing him. Searing pain scorches across Sean’s right abdomen. It hurts. It fucking hurts. Sean collapses into the hot sand, he feels like he’s burning. _

_ “I’ll fucking kill you!” Finn yells.  _

_ He bites his lips. Finn was always reckless. He’s learned that. But there's fear in his eyes as he watches Finn run to him, knuckles white, fire in his eyes. _


	11. near miss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is kinda trash but whatever! the next four chapter will focus more on finn and what happened with the quarrel with like his friends and stuff, and the rest. also please please please please keep sharing and commenting and maybe create stuff for this fic like fanart, its rough for us nonpopular fanfic authors. also i only really write this for myself, and i dont go over to fix and errors, i just kinda write freely. and i think everyone forgot that's what writing is about 
> 
> TW// BLOOD IN THIS CHHAPTER!
> 
> kudos, comments and feedback is appreaciated

_ “Found you!” Daniel says. Sean sighs, groaning. _

_ “What do you want?” _

_ “Do you believe in soulmates?” _

_  
_ _ “What about them Daniel,” Sean gets up from the bathroom floor, stretching. _

_ “Do they exist?” _

_ “That’s up to you, now go away.” _ _  
  
_

_ Sean shoves his hands into his pockets, feeling the warm heat from his phone, a reminder of the deleted videos of him and Karen. It was better to delete them than to wait. There’s this sinking feeling in his chest, turning into regret. He can still remember his shaky fingers skating across the screen, looking at the ghostly memories at his screen, looking at it in a different light, a different hue. He feels angry. But he also feels numb. _

  
  
  


**_February 12th 2017, 11:23 PM_ **

The car that they stole when the train took a day break halfway through their destination stutters. Fuel lights blink a dangerous red hue, bright in the darkness of the night. Finn stops the car, sighing, hand on his temples. Sean watches him turn off the engine, the roaring suddenly stops. 

“The car…” Sean says.

  
“Yeah,” Finn whispers, leaning his chair back, stretching his arms where it reveals the tiny bit of chest. Sean quickly looks away, they’re still trying to find the boundaries, it’s still flimsy and fragile. It can break and shatter if they aren’t careful. A weird, delicate dance that they play. 

The air is musty, thick and cool in the desert with the windows down. They stay silent for a bit, the words that Sean wants to say melts, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue. Finn taps the window with his fingers, a rhythm that sounds so familiar, but he can’t put his finger on it.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Sean says, taking his shoes off, bringing his knees close to his chest, “we’re still a long way from the border, and we’re just in the border of Nevada,” his hands wants to grasp at something, but he can’t find anything. Sean bites the inside of his cheek, trying to make himself smaller, so small that he might become  _ nothing again _ .

“I just… Finn I--”

He hushes him, his voice so soft and gentle in the silence of the car. Finn’s pointer finger touches Sean’s pinkie, an invitation, waiting for him to let him in. It’s an intimate thing, how slow they are, walking on a tightrope, afraid that it’ll all come down if they make a wrong move. 

“We’ll figure it out,” Finn says, moving closer to Sean. He takes Finn’s hand fully, calloused hand against rough hands, tracing the intricacies and lines on Finn’s palm. Sean slowly opens up, lifting his head, looking at Finn. The distance between them is so far, yet so  _ close _ . They push and pull like a magnet. They crash like waves.

Sean is still terrified that this will all end soon.

He’s thankful for the protection of the darkness, where Finn can’t see him, how he’s looking at Finn right now. Glossy eyes staring at Finn’s face, the tiny bumps on his cheek, the tattoos. He feels like he’s taking handfuls of him again, before it’s all gone again. Just like back in the cabin.

“Okay,” Sean says, his thoughts flickering of his own eyes, the night shielding it in it’s shadow. His hand reaches Finn’s wrist, skating his fingers along the veins, the bumps, the bracelets. He takes a moment to look around in the car. Sean can see the car freshener on the mirror, eyes glancing towards the glove compartment. It’s filled with the owner’s things, half filled cologne, photos of his kids and his wife smiling, work papers and a number from a stranger called  _ him _ . 

It feels like he’s peering into something he shouldn’t see. The haunting lies and secrets hiding in this very car, reminders of living another life, hiding it all behind a nice, suburban white family.

“There’s a little bit of fuel left,” Finn says, breaking the silence, reaching further, his thumb skating over Sean’s wrist, “in the back, it might last us three more hours. Then we sleep in the day, then walk in the night.”

  
“That sounds like a good plan.”

“Good plans are always made last minute,” Finn replies. He notices a soft smile on his face. Sean wants to trace it with his finger.

Sean chuckles, “is coming with me to the border last minute.”

“I think it was.”

Finn smiles, he hesitates, wanting to stay with Sean in this bubble of weird intimacy, in the car, cloaked in the night. But he opens the door, getting out of the car. Sean follows him with the mirror, watching him open the back. He lets his head rest against the window of the car, staring into the vast desert, nothing but cool sand. It’ll grow hot and scorching in the morning. But he can appreciate the beauty of the night, and he imagines himself in a road trip of Finn in another lifetime.

It’ll go like this: Sweating under their tank tops, blasting Gorillaz in the radio, getting lost because of the map that turns into arguing and then turns into laughter, feeding Finn chips while he drives, letting quiet silences in between where Sean can look at Finn, realising how  _ lucky  _ he is.

He shakes the thoughts of his head. Nothing comes good from thinking about universes that you don’t leave in.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_February 12th 2017, 3:42 AM_ **

The car finally stops. No more fuel to keep them going. 

They didn’t use the money to buy more fuel. It’s there to get Sean across the border, a delicate plan that they have. It’s still dark out, bathing everything in its soft dark blue hue. Sean sighs.

“We’re out.”

“Guess we are.”

“I’m sleeping at the back,” Sean says, “but if you want the back you can—“

“No,” Finn shakes his head, “seanie boy it’s fine.”

_ Seanie boy _

It’s a cute name.

“Okay.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_February 12th 2017, 4:12 AM_ **

Finn can’t sleep. He rolls the window of the car, peeking his head out to feel the cool breeze of the desert. He can see a little bit out into the desert since it's full of moons. It’s a sandy sea of nothingness, stretching miles with its tiny rocks and dry shrubs, further out he can see the powerlines stretching miles and miles across this desert.

And when he looks back to Sean, he thinks back to what he was just a few months ago before he left Sean. About that  _ night _ . About he left behind his family. He can still remember the damp tears on Cassidy, yelling at him on their stupid argument that grew from whether to keep going or to stay. He remembers the look on Penny’s face, his lips in a thing like but his eyes looking so  _ betrayed _ . Hannah looked at him like he was someone else, like someone climbed into his skin and the real Finn was gone, left. Cut him open and reveal just black ooze.

_ “What the fuck is wrong with you Finn? We’re family! We stick together.” _

He’s so  _ stupid.  _ He can’t go back to their little family. It’s all gone, to them he’s just a mere stranger, just another memory of a faceless stranger. It leaves a echoing feeling in his chest, twisting and turning a knife inside him, trying to get it out. It’s all on him. He’s the one that fucked it up. He’s the one that left the whole family torn apart, it’s a shattered mirror they can’t be fixed, too many pieces to put back together.

But then there comes Sean in that  _ night _ , in that train after Finn stole food from the market and got caught. He remembers his face, he’s seen it in posters and newspapers. But that night, Sean looked so  _ different _ , terrified and not knowing what to do.

It’s strange how he’s right here, peacefully asleep. A part of him wants to take every anger, every fear, everything that ruined Sean and take it all himself, absorb it so Sean can be a normal teenage boy in Seattle. He wants to punch  _ every  _ single person who fucked him over.

Finn wants to go to the back seat, to let his fingers trace the bumps on Sean’s face, then skate his thumb across his lips. Because he didn’t think that Sean would like him back, trying to push him back because he will die from too much love. Now Sean is setting him on fire, making him feel so  _ alive  _ that it's terrifying .

It’s a blessing and a curse. He wishes that they were some else. Cast themselves into the other side of th world, wrapping themselves in the blanket with the disturbance of their lives coming through the blinds as late morning light and the buzzing of the city. They’ll stay there, giggling to each other as they’re caught Up in their moment of domestic intimacy, finally comfortable being five inches away from each other. Warm skin against warm skin. Sean would’ve gotten a ratio on his shoulder and Finn would let his fingers trace the lineart of the wolf

“Stay,” he whispers, not meaning to say it, too loud in the silence.

“What the fuck am I saying,” he says, groaning, trying to pry himself off Sean but he can’t.

It’s a dangerous game that they’re playing. The both of them know it. 

  
  
  
  
  


**_February 12th 2017, 4:22 PM_ **

When Sean first wakes up, he realizes that he’s slept for twelve hours. The car feels like an oven, the metal part of the oven scorched his arm, leaving a red mark. It’s bright out, a cloudless sky lets the sun coat everything in its warmth. 

He looks over to Sean in the driver's seat, sleeping softly. He looks so vulnerable. Sean doesn’t see Finn like this. There’s no witty jokes or stupid comments, or his poker face breaking in moments, revealing a bubbling laughter. It’s intimate, seeing a side of Finn that no one else will see. The sunlight smooths the face of him, dusting his eyelashes, shaping his face. Finn shifts his position, turning his back on Sean, leaning against the window.

Sean puts his shoes in first before stepping out of the car, smoothing out his grey tank top, he remembers picking it out with Lyla, wanting to impress Jenn in the summer party. His blue basketball shorts is starting to get a bit big on him, probably from the amount of food that they can’t get.

He stares at the Dead Sea, blocking out the sun. Nothing out there but stretches of sand and snakes and scorpions. He’s heard of the stories of people dying out here in the news, in headlines and from his peers. He makes a mental note not to cross the desert unless necessary. When he looks to the road in front of him that stretches on and on, the heat distorting it in the distance, he notices how far away from Seattle, and how far he still has to go.

Memories of his father in the kitchen preparing the ribs, measuring out the spices and herbs. Smoked Paprika. Brown sugar. Garlic powder. Mindless words that he didn’t know but knew makes for a good ribs when mum—Karen grills it at the front, wiping her forehead from the sweet under the scorching sun. The neighbours always looked at them funny, sort of kissing them off. Karen, being the white parent grilling up a storm while his dad does everything in the house.

He hears the car creak, tossing him out of his thoughts and back to his sad reality. In the middle of the desert with no gas. Having to walk all the way to the border with a fleeting relationship with a boy. 

“We overslept,” Finn says as he gets out of the car, wearing a graffitied graphic tank top and black cargo pants.

“Shouldn’t have stayed up yesterday.”

I hum a response. Finn behind m, sighing.

“Guess we’re walking,” I say.

“Please don’t tell me we’re gonna die out here in the desert walking.”

I laugh.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_February 12th 2017, 4:43 PM_ **

They took everything that they need from the car. The warm, disgusting water they prepare for this trip, heavy in our bags. The money that Sean need to cross the border, it’s expensive to usher someone over the border. Packs of instant cups and canned food in his bag, Sean is full with clothes of Finnand his. 

Sean walks at the same pace as him. Slow and steady, stopping in every shadow that we find to get a break from the unforgiving heat of the desert. The car in the horizon is just a tiny dot in the horizon, blurry and hazy, mixing in with the heat. He thinks back to the times in the car, the moments where he would briefly touch my palm when we’re talking Sewn  _ swears  _ he thought he would die right then.

He finds himself looking at Finn deep in thought. Staring at the ground, hands in his pocket, eyebrows furrowing together. There’s a spark of thought that runs through Sean’s mind, so quick that it almost passes over him quickly. He’s finding himself looking at Finn more lately, trying to study more of his face, remember the features of him, like staring at a map before completely losing it. 

It’s like trying to get more of him before he leaves again.

_ Grabbing handfuls of him before everything is gone. _

Finn interrupts the silence between them by nudging Sean in the shoulder, “there’s a billboard there, let’s take a break.”

“I’m fine.”

“Seanie boy, stop lying,” he says, taking out his map from his back pocket, “just two minute breaks, the next motel is like a hundred miles away, we might be able to Hotwire again.”

“Thanks to my hotwiring skills.”

“Don’t forget my picklocking skills,” Finn replies.

Seen chuckles, thinking that this is good banter. This feels natural between them. Finn kicks the rubbles from the asphalt as they speed up their pace. He’s no longer deeply thoughtful, Sean realises. There’s a softness and lax back, no thoughts that Sean can only peer through but can’t enter.

The switch between asphalt to sand takes half a second to get used to. Sean stares up at the billboard, towering over them with its two, large metal legs. Metal framing to keep whatever advertisement or propaganda propped up is probably as hot as an oven, scorching to the sun. 

“ _ Universal Uprising Church?” _ Sean reads out, staring at the image of the church, a fence surrounds the perimeter of the church, with its bare, depressing white coating the outside of the church, dry brush that wraps around the church doesn’t do anything to save the image, “ _ 22 miles away, be blessed with our miracles.  _ Sounds like a fucking cult.”

“Looks like we’ll be late for the evening mass then,” Finn jokes. They enter the shade of the billboard, suddenly feeling a drop in the temperature. Memories of entering gas stations to escape hot afternoon summers, filling up slurpees too much, laughing with Lyla props in his mind. He wonders how she’s doing.

“Well fuck,” Sean mumbles, wiping away the sand of a rock. He sits down, putting his bag down next to him.

“If any Jesus is out there, he should be right here right  _ now _ .”

“He’s dead. I killed him.”

“Wow…” Finn drops his bag on the floor and sits on it, cross legged.

“Yeah, I'm built differently.”

It earns a giddy laugh from Finn, filling up the vast desert of nothingness. It’s something that Sean wants to hear more, to trap into a bottle, to keep with him for the rest of eternity. His laughter is a piece of the very heavens, the flames from the sun and Sean thinks if he hears more, he’ll be set in fire. 

The laughter stops and there’s a silence that couples share, replacing the giddiness between them. He notices how close they are, knees just a few inches away, the furthest inches he’s ever seen in his life. He’s terrified to make the move, eyes shifting from Finn to the grass a few meters away.

“Oh my god,” Finn finally says after a few seconds, and he kisses Sean. 

It’s a chaste kiss, just a peck. Only being a quick kiss, like what a wife does to her husband before he walks out the door to go to work. But a part of Sean wants to to last longer, maybe a few more seconds. So before Finn can pull away Sean nibbles at his lower lip, a sign of wanting more, to stay like this for just a bit more.

He feels Finn’s hand rest on his knee, and he’s realising he doesn’t know where to put his hands. He settles on Finn’s neck, feeling the veins, the thrum of his heart. Sean is remembering it all, he’s charting it out in a map as they kiss for longer, growing more and more. Finn is something that Sean is still trying to learn, trying to grasp the subject. He’s an abstract thing, and Sean is trying his best. 

When Finn pulls away they let their forehead touch, such a soft and intimate thing that Sean feels heat crawl through his ears and into his cheeks. They’re so close to each other, in the same space, in the same area. This is a space that only a few people will share, feeling shaky breaths against each other’s skin. Sean wants this moment to stop, for him to take out his sketchbook, draw the very details of Finn’s that’s he’s memorised, draw the imperfections of him that make him so  _ perfect _ , they fit together like lost puzzles.

And it's a terrifying thing.

“Back at my uncle's house, I didn’t think that you would ever look at me like this.”

“Maybe I was scared shitless,” Sean says, barely above a whisper, just for the two of them to hear.

“You’re gonna get me killed Sean Diaz.”

“Right back at you,” Sean says with a soft smile. He doesn’t think of the future and the problems, because he’s stuck trying to remember every  _ single  _ detail of this moment. He’s learning the waters, remembering the course, drawing it on a paper. He will draw this later during their other breaks, imprint it forever so that he doesn’t forget. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_February 13th 2017, 12:32 AM_ **

Sean pants, “holy shit, I think I’m gonna pass out.”

“Just breathe, come on.”

“Water, I need water.”

“Okay here.”

A pause settles between them.

“I don’t think I can keep going.”

“It’s fine, we can take a thirty minute break.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_February 13th 2017, 12:56 AM_ **

Sean is dreaming.

He finds himself driving, window down with his arm out, hand opening up like a flower. His palm collects the dry heat, but the very dirt, sand and dust from the desert itself. The radio is on, quietly humming a random country on the radio. Sean notices how rough the steering wheel is against his other hand, like it’s been collecting the callouses, the ridges and the roughness from other people.

“You’re gonna lose your arm if you do that Sean,” he looks over to his dad for a moment before looking back to the road, he’s still nervous about driving.

“That never happened.”

“It has, just trust your  _ papito,  _ yeah?”

“I’m still doing it.”

Sean gets a sigh from Esteban, before letting it go. Esteban reaches into the back seat, Sean’s eyes following him as he takes doritos from the back seat.

“Don’t blame me if you lose your arm,” Esteban mumbles, the bag crinkling. Sean bites his lower lip, trying to concentrate on the road, but his mind is split on whether to take his arm out of the window, to leave it on his lap. If he does take it back, it’ll wander, wanting to grasp or hold something during this road trip.

“I know,” Sean says. He looks up at the rear-view mirror, a wooden cross dangling from it. It changes sideways as the car hits a small bump in the road.

“So… that  _ Jenn  _ girl, what’s happening there.”

For a split moment Sean thought he was gonna crash, “n-nothing’s going on with her and me.”

“You can tell me  _ anything _ \--”

  
“I’m serious, she likes someone else,” Sean sighs, slumping, “kinda a bummer, but it happens I guess.”

They let the silence wash over them, like waves softly coming up to the beaches in low tides, bubbling and fizzing into the sand before coming back to the sea. This is strange and awkward, Sean doesn’t know what to say. He lets his arm back in, letting it rest on his lap. It’s warm to the touch.

“I uh…” Sean pauses, hesitating, just at the tip of the border, “I kinda kissed someone though.”

  
“Jenn?” Esteban rummages through the doritos. Sean can hear the  _ crunch  _ fill the whole car.

“No… it’s a boy…”   
  


_ “Oh _ .”

Sean lets it sink between them for a moment, it feels like a ticking time bomb. He’s absolutely  _ terrified _ , not knowing how Esteban will react. His hand that isn’t on the steering wheel curls into a fist and there’s a tightening around his lungs, ready to apologise for kissing a boy.

“It wasn’t planned, it was… it just… it just happened.”

_ “Can I kiss you?” _

“Uh… Okay! I’m fine with that, it's just that… it’s a bit unexpected… yeah.”

“It surprised me too.”

The phone rings, cutting off their conversation. He looks at him for a moment before saying: “does Lyla know about the boy situation?”

Sean shakes his head.

He answers the call. Daniel giggling with the Mario kart winning sound sweeps through the speaker. Esteban holds it between them, putting the call on speaker.

“Is Daniel causing you any problems Lyla?”

She giggles, shaking her head, “no he’s been a treat.”

“Were making cookies soon,” Daniel says, “don’t worry! She’s making them healthy.”

“Healthy?” Sean asks.

“It’s a new recipe I’m working on,” Lyla says, “anyways, how is the road trip going?”

“It’s going great,” Esteban says, “but just take care of Daniel, okay?”

“I know, I’ll put him to bed when it’s time like I promised.”

“Thank you, Lyla.”

“It’s no problem Mr. Diaz.”

“Just call me Esteban.”

“Sorry,  _ Esteban,”  _ Lyla corrects herself, “I should go and leave you tw. Don’t crash Sean!”

“He’s driving like a grandma don’t worry,” Esteban jokes, Sean Ramos up the speed just a tiny bit, “I’ll call you when we arrive.”

Esteban hangs up. Silence settles between them, and Sean realises how much they don’t talk. It is strange, how he hasn't connected with his dad. It feels like it’s too late, too much lost time, it’s not enough to make up for it. 

“By the way Sean—“

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_February 13th 2017, 1:01 AM_ **

He wakes up to yelling, light blinding his eyes. Sean quickly sits up, realising that it’s a flashlight. A tall man with fading yellow plaid shirt with dirty blue jeans that sinks at the bottom of his feet that is way too big for him is talking to Finn. There’s an anger to that man, the sort of wild and careless type. There’s a boy next to the man, trying to pull him back to his senses. He looks lanky, straight brown hair with blue overalls.

Sean wipes away the grogginess from his eyes, still adjusting to the sudden brightness. It’s still dark, Sean looks to his left, seeing the car with headlights on, casting long shadows, almost reaching the road itself like its trying to claw its way back.

“We didn’t know that this was your land, we’ll leave,” Finn says, there’s a bite to his voice however.

“You didn’t see the  _ fucking  _ sign?” The taller man yells, “are you stupid?”

Sean grips his bag, looking around him. He wishes Daniel was here with his powers, it’ll make things so much easier. But Daniel isn’t here, all he’s left is with his mind, a bag full of money and Finn trying to desecrate a situation.

“This is our land!” The man yells again.

“Come on Chad, lets just go.”

“Shut up Mike.”

Mike and Chad. He quickly makes a mental note in his mind.

“Look, we didn’t realise that this was your land okay? We’re going—“

“You ain’t going nowhere, we’re searching through your shit.”

Sean sees Finn’s knuckles go white. It’s like someone lights up a match and throws it in a line of oil, the flame snaking its way slowly. Hidden anger follows through him, from his feet shifting, to Finn’s steadfast eyes. He’s not going anywhere. He’s stubborn, something that Sean has learned. 

“The fuck did you just say?” Finn shoves Chad back, making him take a few steps back.

“We’re going through your shit. Or how do I say that in Spanish to you  _ boyfriend?” _

The spark, the trail. There’s a pause until it spirals into a flame of fire. Before Sean can stand up to punch the bastard himself, Finn does it for him, straight to the stomach. Chad groans, clutching his stomach. Mike stands there, not knowing what to do, stuck between two sides. 

Sean stands up, taking both of their bags. Their anger and fury that explodes into words and punches is a mere spark, a split second distraction in the darkness of the desert. Before Finn can react, Chad pulls something out of his pocket, metal glinting in the moonlight. 

Sean feels his life in a blink, in a second. It’s a terrifying thing to experience, being in end of a barrel.

The bullet barely skids past him, missing him. Searing pain scorches across Sean’s right abdomen. It hurts. It fucking hurts. Sean collapses into the cool sand, it burns, it scorched and it feels like he’s on  _ fire. _

“I’ll fucking kill you!” Finn yells. 

He bites his lips. Finn was always reckless. He’s learned that. But there's fear in his eyes as he watches Finn run to Chad, knuckles white, fire in his eyes. He momentarily think back to the house that set on fire, the inferno capable of burning the entire forest down, Finn has it in his very hands.

He must’ve gotten that anger somewhere.

Sean watches Finn tackle him to the ground, Chad loses the grip of the gun and Finn kicks off. Mike doesn’t chase after it in the darkness, he stays, shaking, staying in the light. Finn gets on top of him, throwing heavy punches to Chad, blow after blow, full of intention to leave him bleeding.

“Finn,” Sean calls our, Finn’s pillar of flame is going to explode if he doesn’t punt, but his voice is soft and shaky.

“Finn!” 

He stops.

“Stop,” he winches, gripping his abdomen, red blooming underneath his tank top, “ _ stop, please.” _

And he does. He gets up from Chad, shaky, breathless, staring at what he's done before walking over to Sean. 

“You okay?” Finn asks.

“I think it’s just scraped me,” Sean replies. He leans into Finn’s shoulder. He hears a click of a gun, Finn turns round. Mike is there, metres away from Finn, a gun in his shaky hands. The grip tightens, like it might leap out of his hands in a split second and get destroyed if its the ground. Mike doesn’t know how to hold a gun, his stance is shaky.

“You’re not gonna shoot us,” Sean says, gasping for air like he doesn’t have enough inside his lungs, “don’t go down that route,  _ please _ .”

Mike is breaking, he drops the ground, the revolver landing as it picks up dust. He looks at both of them, mouth open, wanting to say something else but he doesn’t. He bites down on his lip. 

“Come on,” Finn mumbles, guiding Sean to the car, “I’m sorry we have to do this,” he says to Mike. He doesn’t answer. Sean finds himself leaning more into Finn, letting him take all of his weight, all groaning. He gets in the car. The door closes. Finn drives off.

  
  
  
  
  


**_February 13th, 2017, 1:34 AM_ **

It took them awhile to find a Motel, a cheap one. They can’t go to a hospital. Sean’s breathing is all over the place, it’s hitching and shaky, like he has too much air inside him and not enough at the same time. Finn inserts the key into the door shakily, full of panic. 

“Jesus,” Sean says. The pain is growing, his tank top sticks to his wound. Every time he moves. Every time he breathes. Everytime he moves a muscle the pain pulsates, a stinging sensation that shocks Sean. He leans against Finn for support.

“You okay?” 

“Fucking fantastic.”

They turn on the lights and Sean lays on the bed that they have to share. It sinks under his own weight, he shifts himself, resting his head on the pillows. Finn comes back to shut the door, closing off the curtains, then goes back to Sean. He kneels on the floor, looking at Sean like he might lose everything, like he’s watching his own house burst into an inferno of flames.

His fingers slowly glide Sean’s abdomen, slowly pushing back the tank top to reveal brown skin contrasting against what looks like a cut, blood pooling around the wound. It’s not deep. But it’s not shallow either.

“Finn?” He says, he sounds terrified, tone higher.

“It’s okay,” Finn replies, “it’s okay, you’re okay,” he says it like a prayer, kneeling down in front of a church. He doesn’t know if it’ll do him any good.

“It’s not deep,” he continues, “but I know how to do the stitching a bit but… It might get infected.”

Finn leaves him for a moment and everything in Finn’s body screams at him to stay near Sean, to touch his hands, grasp it. He quickly rummages through their bags, finding the spare rubbing alcohol and a handkerchief, they can use it for a bandage.

He goes back to Sean, “this is gonna hurt.”

“Just do it,” he says, wincing.

He pours rubbing alcohol over the wound, washing away the sickly red blood shining from the light. Sean sobs, screaming, a fist in his mouth and Finn  _ hates  _ how much pain he’s in. He wants to take it for himself, to absorb it all and let Sean live. He’s been through so much.

“I’m sorry,” is all Finn manages to say, covering the wound with a handkerchief. He takes Sean’s hand, clammy and shaky, “ _ sweetheart  _ I’m so sorry.”

He puts his knuckles close to his lips, feeling the bumps, the texture, the shakiness. Like a kiss might make it all go away. Sean breathing evens out just a little bit, his chest rising and falling.

“You’re gonna be the death of me one day.”

“I’m sorry,” Sean replies.

He chuckles in return.

Finn stays there on the floor, eyes open, back against the wall, holding Sean’s hand tightly and whispering soft nothings to it. He can’t rest. He needs to stay awake for Sean. Even if it’s all the way through the night, in case anything happens. Soft snores fills the room a little while later. He doesn’t let go of Sean’s hand. He’ll hold it forever if he has to.

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr!!!](https://blepbean.tumblr.com/%E2%80%9D%20rel=)


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